THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 

ENDOWED  BY 

JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 
CLASS  OF  1889 


C813 

C641h 


FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


Forrr.  No.  A -368 


How  Zach  Came  to  College 


HOV/    ZACH  CAME  TO    COLLEGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Spartanburg,  one  of  the  leading  cities  in  the 
Piedmont  region  of  South  Carolina,  was  once  a 
hamlet,  absolutely  wanting  in  city  ways  and  city 
aspirations. 

The  modest  little  village  was  the  "town",  the 
market  place,  for  the  hardy  mountaineers  liv- 
ing in  the  border  counties  along  the  North  Caro- 
lina line.  To  Spartanburg  they  brought  their 
apples,  chestnuts,  turnips,  cabbage,  "taters"  and 
their  corn — as  much  of  it  as  the}^  did  not  turn 
into  "mountain  dew''.  Long  trains  of  "mountain 
schooners",  drawn  by  oxen  and  burdened  with 
"garden  truck  and  sich  Hkc"  slowly  winding  their 
way  "to  town"  were  familiar  scenes  to  the  people 
living  along  the  many  country  roads  leading  from 
the  mountain  fastnesses  to  Spartanburg.  Nor 
can  it  be  denied  that  the  "sich  like''    meant  not 


4  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

infrequent]}'  the  juice  of  the  apple  rather  than 
the  apple  itself;  for  the  sturdy  mountaineer  thought 
it  not  wrong  to  get  his  apples  and  corn  over  the 
hills  with  the  least  expense  possible.  What  if  it 
did  mean  the  killing  of  a  few  revenue  officers  ? 
If  Uncle  Sam  got  in  the  way  of  their  support  for 
w^ife  and  little  ones,  he  must  "go  down." 

A  number  of  years  prior  to  the  Civil  War,  and 
for  a  decade  after  its  close,  Spartanburg  boasted 
of  one  railroad,  and  Spartanburg  was  its  northern 
terminus.  That  fact  increased  the  importance  of 
the  little  village,  added  to  her  dignity,  and  she 
became  the  shipping  point  for  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  upper  South  Carolina  and  not  a  little 
territory  be5'ond  the  North  Carolina  line.  So  the 
wagon  trains  moved  regularly,  until  Spartan- 
burg's single  railroad  pushed  its  w^ay  to  Asheville, 
and  other  roads  came  to  emancipate  the  steer  and 
make  the  "mountain  schooner"  a  thing  of  the 
past. 

One  warm,  lazy  June  day  in  the  early  70's,  there 
stood  in  a  store  door  in  Spartanburg  two  men — 
one,  the  proprietor.  Major  John  A.  Lee,  the  other 
a  young  mountaineer.     The  mountain  lad  had  on 


HOW  ZACH  CAMEjTO  COLLKGE  5 

no  coat,  but  stood  six  feet  two  inches,  in  his  rough 
brogan  boots,  into  the  tops  of  which  were  stuffed 
his  blue  jeans  trousers,  and  tipped  the  scales  at 
240  pounds.  The  pure  air  that  surrounded  his 
mountain  home,  and  the  regular  daily  work  on  the 
little  farm, had  developed  him  into  a  perfect  animal. 
A  coal-black  moustache  adorned  his  upper  lip, 
while  a  well-shaped  nose,  slightly  aquiline,  and  a 
pair  of  laughing  brown  eyes  made  him  a  man  who 
would  attract  attention  in  any  crowd.  A  single, 
knotted,  twisted  suspender  wound  its  way  across 
one  of  his  shoulders  and  served  the  double  purpose 
of  holding  up  his  trousers  and  affording  a  sling 
for  one  of  his  arms  while  he  stood  '  'at  rest' ' .  The 
pantaloons  were  innocent  of  buttons,  but  their 
places  were  supplied  by  a  rust}^  nail,  and  a  thorn, 
the  latter  plucked  from  a  thorn  bush  that  stood  by 
the  road  leading  from  his  mountain  home  to  the 
embryo  city. 

This  attractive  specimen  of  physical  manhood 
knew  little  of  books,  but  had  learned  much  in  the 
school  of  experience.  He  knew  the  haunts  and 
habits  of  the  mountain  deer  "as  the  seaman  knows 
the  sea",  and  to  the  raccoon  and  the  'possum  was 


6  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.EGE 

a  constant  terror.  And  not  a  few  of  the  hides  of 
these  animals,  as  well  as  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  he 
sold  in  Spartanburg.  He  had  watched  men  closely, 
had  blushed  because  of  many  things  that  he  knew 
to  be  wrong  about  him,  and  had  dreamed  of  a 
higher  life. 

It  was  a  dull  day  with  the  merchants.  Few 
countrymen  were  in  town,  so  our  mountain  lad  and 
Major  Lee  talked  leisurely  of  the  weather,  the 
change  of  the  moon,  and  the  prospects  for  a  pinder 
crop.  Our  hero  had  great  confidence  in  the  big- 
hearted  merchant,  and  no  little  admiration  for  the 
man  that  "knowed  so  much."  He  had  sold  him 
his  load  of  "truck",  and  was  just  waiting  for  his 
steers  to  "eat  a  bite"  before  beginning  his  long 
journej''  homeward. 

Stroking  his  heavy  boots  with  one  end  of  his 
long  whip  handle,  the  young  man  raised  his  brown 
eyes  till  they  met  those  of  his  friend,  and  then 
said,  with  some  hesitation: 

"Major,  what's  that?" 

"That's  a  bell,  the  College  bell;  they  are  having 
Commencement  over  there  to-day",  replied  the 
gentle,  sympathetic  merchant. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI.EGE 


( <■' 


'What  is  Commencement,  Major,  and  what  is 
a  college?"  asked  the  lad,  this  time  an  expression 
of  intense  interest  spreading  over  his  face. 

The  kind-hearted  business  man  consumed  sev- 
eral minutes  endeavoring  to  convey  to  the  mind  of 
the  young  man  some  idea  of  what  a  college  is  sup- 
posed to  be  and  do,  and  of  what  is  meant  by  the 
word  commencement  when  used  in  this  way,  and 
then  said: 

''I    am   going   over   to   attend    the    exercises, 
won't  you  go  along  with  me?'' 

"I  don't  care  if  I  do"  was  the  quick  reply,  and 
the  mountaineer  shambled  off  to  his  cart  to  get 
his  coat  with  the  apparent  delight  of  one  who  has 
just  received  a  new  view  of  the  possibilities  of 
life. 

The  coat,  when  the  dust  from  the  oxen's  fodder 
had  been  shaken  from  it,  was  donned,  and  the 
young  man  raked  his  chubby  fingers  through  his 
somewhat  disheveled  locks,  his  heavy  wool  hat 
was  pushed  up  in  front,  and  he  walked  off  with 
his  friend,  the  words  "college"  and  "commence- 
ment" ringing  in  his  mind  and  heart  as  he 
struggled  to  get  at  their  meaning — ringing  almost 


8  HOW  zAcii  came:  to  coli^ege: 

as  sweetly  and  encouragingly  as  the  old  college 
bell  rang  into  his  natural  ears.  The  coat  did  not 
fit  well — a  little  too  tight  it  was,  with  the  sleeves 
just  a  shade  too  short,  but  what  cared  the  young 
man  for  that?  It  was  spun  and  woven  and  made 
by  the  stiffened  fingers  of  his  widowed  mother, 
one  of  God's  uncrowned  queens,  and  it  covered 
the  back  and  the  throbbing  heart  of  a  guileless 
man. 

After  a  walk  of  fifteen  minutes,  the  two  reached 
the  College  and  were  conducted  by  the  ushers  to 
comfortable  seats  where  they  could  hear  every 
word  spoken  by  the  young  men  of  the  graduating 
class. 

Wofford  College  had  on  her  gala-day  attire. 
The  floral  decorations,  arranged  by  the  hands  of 
gentle  women,  were  a  revelation  to  our  moun- 
taineer. He  had  seen  nature  in  all  her  loveliness 
among  the  crags  and  peaks  and  in  the  vallej^s  of 
his  mountain  region.  He  loved  the  wild  flowers 
with  all  his  soul,  and  had  plucked  them  often  for 
his  mother,  but  never  before  had  he  seen  blossom 
and  bud  arrayed  in  such  dazzling  beauty.  He 
had   heard  music,   too,   sweet  music   as   it   came 


HOW  ZACII  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  9 

from  the  fiddle  and  the  bow  and  rivaled  the  mel- 
low laughter  of  the  mountain  lassie;  he  had  "cut 
the  pigeon  wing,"  despite  his  heft,  at  many  a 
country  frolic;  but  never  before  had  he  heard 
such  entrancing  music  as  that  string  band  poured 
into  his  opening  soul. 

The  spacious  auditorium  was  crowded  with 
elegantly  dressed  women,  wise  men,  and  bubbling, 
buoyant  3'outh.  The  mountaineer  was  bewildered, 
but  it  was  delicious  bewilderment.  He  was  in  a 
trance. 

But  the  exercises  must  begin.  The  dazed 
mountaineer  watched  with  intense  interest  the 
long  line  of  students  file  into  the  hall  and  the 
fifteen  members  of  the  Senior  Class  take  their 
seats  on  the  rostrum  preparatory  to  delivering 
their  graduating  speeches. 

There  were  in  that  class  some  splendid  speak- 
ers. They  had  the  graces  of  the  born  orator. 
One  of  the  number  is  to-da}'  a  distinguished 
lawyer  in  the  city  of  New  York.  Our  mountain- 
eer looked  and  listened  with  all  his  might.  Not  a 
word  escaped  him,  though  many   he  did   not  un- 


lO  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvLEGE 

derstand.      He  wavS  moved   and  swayed  as  never 
before  in  all  his  life. 

After  one  particularly  patriotic  address  in 
which  the  j^oiing  orator  spoke  of  the  "Lost  Cause, 
the  Blood  of  Southern  Boys"  and  "The  Graves  of 
the  Gallant  Confederate  Dead,"  the  band  played 
Dixie,  and  the  atidience  "went  wdld." 

When  the  applause  subsided,  our  mountaineer 
leaned  over  and  whispered  to  his  friend,  the  mer- 
chant: "Major,  I'll  speak  up  thar  one  o'  these 
days." 

The  Major  was  surprised,  almost  amazed  at 
w4iat  he  heard,  but  made  some  courteous  repl}^ 
and  the  two  turned  their  attention  to  the  next 
speaker. 

The  pleasant  occasion  came  to  a  close.  The 
valedictorian  of  the  class  "had  his  sa3\"  He 
talked  to  his  classmates  of  the  pleasant  years 
spent  together,  of  the  hard-fought  battles,  of  the 
victories  and  defeats,  then  wished  them  "a 
pleasant  and  successful  voyage  over  life's  tempes- 
tuous sea,"  and  bade  them  a  "long  farewell." 
The  diplomas  were  distributed  after  the  orthodox 
fashion,  the  President's  few  parting  words  being 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  1 1 

delivered  in  Latin,    and   the  commencement  was 
over. 

The  students  repaired  to  their  homes  and 
boarding  houses — the  mountaineer  to  his  cart. 
On  the  walk  from  the  college,  he  spoke  but  few 
words.  He  was  thoughtful.  That  day,  a  pur- 
pose was  born  in  him.     He  is  another  man. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Hasitly  yoking  his  steers,  the  mountaineer 
flung  into  the  cart  the  few  articles  purchased  in 
the  morning,  and  turned  his  face  homeward.  The 
purchased  articles  were  few — just  a  little  sugar 
and  coffee  and  a  calico  dress  for  his  mother,  the 
queen  of  his  mountain  home.  That  was  a  warm 
afternoon,  the  road  was  a  long  and  dusty  one,  and 
the  faithful  oxen  labored  hard  though  they  drew 
but  little  more  than  the  weight  of  their  patient 
master.  Old  Towser,  the  trusty  watch-dog  and 
constant  companion  of  his  master,  trotted  lazily 
under  the  bed  of  the  cart,  sometimes  on  the  shady 
side.  His  tongue  was  hanging  out  and  he  panted 
fearfully.  The  master  munched  his  lunch,  a  bit 
of  bread  and  a  part  of  a  squirrel  his  mother  had 
prepared  for  him.  He  ate,  not  because  he  was 
hungry,  but  from  force  of  habit  and  to  attest  his 
appreciation  of  his  mother's  nev^er-failing  thought- 
fulness  of  his  comfort.  The  mountaineer  was 
living  over  the  experiences  of  the  forenoon.  The 
cattle  had  their  own  wa}-. 

After  the  sun  had  set,  and  while  the  song  of  the 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  C0I.LP:GE  13 

whip-poor  will  was  echoing  and  re-echoing  among 
the  hills,  they  came  to  one  of  those  beautiful 
streams  that  wind  their  way  across  upper  Carolina, 
and  man  and  beast  satisfied  their  thirst,  the 
mountaineer  using  his  unlined  wool  hat  as  a 
dipper. 

The  mountaineer  was  accustomed  to  talking  to 
his  steers  and  his  dog,  and,  no  doubt,  if  these 
dumb  brutes  could  have  vSpoken,  they  would  have 
expressed  surprise  at  this  strange,  long  silence  of 
their  master.  The  lapping  of  the  dog,  the  evident 
pleasure  experienced  by  the  thirst}^  steers,  as  well 
as  the  quenching  of  his  own  thirst,  reminded  him 
of  the  fact  that  he  had  neglected  to  give  the  ani- 
mals water  before  leaving  Spartanburg,  and  imme- 
diately loosened  his  tongue. 

"Towser,  old  fellow,"  said  he,  "that's  right, 
lap  it  up,  hit  will  do  you  good.  You  shell  hev 
a  good  supper,  too,  as  soon  as  we  git  home,  a  real 
good  supper  to  make  you  strong.  The  warmints 
must  be  kept  outen  the  corn — they  musn't  have 
a  grain  of  it.  I  shall  need  it  all.  I'm  gwine  to 
college,  Towser;  won't  you  find  the   raccoon  and 


14  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

the  sqiiir'l  fur  me,  and  can't  we  git  a  few  minks, 
and  a  bear  or  two?" 

The  ears  and  face  of  the  brave  old  cur  bore 
many  evidences  of  deadly  conflicts  with  the  rac- 
coon; and  though  he  could  not  speak,  he  whined 
and  barked  his  joyful  assent  to  all  that  was  pro- 
posed, and  fairly  churned  the  water  in  his  efforts 
to  kiss  his  master's  hand.  It  was  the  only 
language  the  dog  could  command,  but  the  master 
understood  it. 

Then  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  steers,  now 
quietly  listening  to  all  that  had  been  said,  and 
affectionately  told  them  of  his  purpose. 

How  long  they  stood  talking  in  the  stream, 
they  knew  not,  but  the  hooting  of  an  owl  just 
over  the  hill  broke  the  spell,  and  the  mountaineer 
began  talking  to  his  cattle  in  the  language  of  the 
whipthong,  a  language  full  of  meaning  and  music 
when  the  long  whip  is  handled  by  a  master  of  the 
art.  As  there  is  music  for  the  trained  hunter  in 
the  "mouthings"  of  his  pack,  so  is  there  concord 
of  sweet  sounds  for  the  expert  driver  in  the  regu- 
lated cracking  of  his  whip. 

The  mountaineer  noticed  now  for  the  first  time 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  1 5 

that  they  were  still  many  miles  from  home  and 
that  it  would  be  late,  very  late,  before  they  could 
reach  the  end  of  their  journey;  nevertheless,  the 
lash  was  not  allowed  to  touch  the  backs  of  the 
steers  one  time,  for  they  were  tired  and  hungry, 
and  their  master  was  their  friend.  The  song  of 
the  whipthong.  however,  quickened  their  pace 
somewhat,  and  they  were  now  off,  in  dead  earnest, 
on  "the  home  stretch." 

Towser,  chilled  bj^  the  cooling  stream  in  which 
he  had  rested,  leaped  for  joy,  and  barked  his  de- 
light until  the  provoking  echo  of  his  own  musical 
voice  arrested  his  attention,  and  he  ended  the  per- 
formance with  an  ominous  growl.  The  master 
heard  the  echo,  too,  and  thus  soliloquized: 

"I  wonder  wliut  that  means  and  how  it  is. 
They  call  it  echo — what  is  echo?  I  do  not  know. 
Can  they  tell  me  at  college?  Never  mind, 
Towser,  I  shall  find  out  and  tell  you  whut  it 
is." 

Mile  after  mile  was  covered  by  the  steady  team, 
the  master,  meantime,  lapsing  into  his  thoughtful 
mood,  after  laughing  at  the  antics  of  the  spiteful 
little  screech-owls  that  brushed  the  crown  of  his 


1 6  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI^LKGE 

wool  hat  with  the  tips  of  their  wings  and  viciously 
snapped  their  beaks  just  above  his  head. 

The  stars  were  out  now  in  all  their  beauty  and 
grandeur.  Occasionally  a  meteor  darted  across 
the  heavens,  and  the  mountaineer  said  to  himself 
and  to  his  dumb  friends:  "Now,  what  do  that 
mean?  They  say  it's  a  fallin'  star.  Do  the  star 
fall?  My  Bible  tells  me  the  mornin'  stars  sing 
together — does  they  really  sing?  I  can't  hear  the 
music,  but  I  b'lieve  they  do.  I  know  they  dance, 
and  I  sometimes  think  I  can  see  'em  weepin'. 
Mebbe  they  do  Vv'eep.  Mebbe  they  weeps  over 
the  sins  o'  human  critters.  God  knows — I 
don't." 

Crossing  a  narrow  valley  now,  on  either  side  of 
which  the  hills  seemed  to  rise  one  above  another 
till  they  met  the  stars  and  rolled  them  in  their 
laps,  the  joy  of  this  uncultured  son  of  the  moun- 
tains knew  no  bounds,  and  he  gave  vent  to  his 
feelings  by  uttering  a  long  repeated Jyell  that  re- 
verberated among  the  hills  until  it  seemed  to 
shake  their  ver}^  foundations.  Then  taking  up 
his  whip,  he  said:  "Now,  Susie,  old  gal,  sing  us 
a  song.     See  the  hills  and  the  stars   and   the  val- 


kOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COtLEGK  1 7 

ley;  now,  talk  it  out,    old  gal,    talk   it   out,   good 
and  strong." 

Standing  on  tip-toe  in  the  wagon,  the  moun- 
taineer twirled  the  long  whipthong  above  his  head 
with  such  strength  and  such  regularity  of  move- 
ment that  the  metric  cracking  of  the  deer  skin 
seemed  to  prov^oke  the  whole  mountain  region  to 
a  fit  of  ceaseless  laughter.  Then  he  laughed  a 
good-natured,  jolly  laugh  that  died  away  down 
the  valley  in  a  whisper;  and,  patting  the  long 
whip  handle  with  his  left  hand,  he  said  tenderly: 
"Well  done,  Susie,  well  done,  that's  the  way  to 
talk  it  out;  I  know  your  language:  it  is  music  to 
my  soul — it  is  the  song  of  my  deer  skin." 

CHAPTER   III. 

A  FEW  hundred  yards  farther,  and  old  Towser 
pricked  up  his  ears,  and, with  a  sharp  bark,  bound- 
ed away  to  investigate  a  noise  he  heard  ahead. 

"Be  careful,  Towser,  be  careful,  sir;  you  know 
your  failin' ;  come  back  now  to  your  place  and  keep 
cool." 

Like  his  master,  old  Towser  was  game  from  tip 
to  tip;  each  feared  neither   man  nor  devil — each 


1 8  HOW  ZACI-I  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

recognized  but  one  master.  But  Towser  was  obedi- 
ent, and,  taking  his  place  immediately  in  front  of 
the  steers,  he  stiffened  every  joint  in  his  body  and 
uttered  an  ominous  growl  that  meant  fight,  and 
fight  to  the  death,  for  the  right  of  way. 

After  a  few  minutes,  old  Towser  scented  old 
Jack,  one  of  the  few  negroes  living  among  the 
mountains,  and  changed  his  growl  to  a  whine  of 
recognition. 

"Hello,  Marse  Zach,  dat  you?" 

"Hello,  Uncle  Jack,  whut  you  doin'  out  here 
this  time  o'  night?" 

"Sho  nuff,  dat's  you;  I  knowed  'twus  j^ou.  I 
heeard  Susie's  voice;  the  Lawd  bless  yo'  soul, 
mun,  you  oughter  bin  whar  I  wus .  to  hear  her 
speak.  She  farly  tar  round  dar  'mong  de  rocks 
and  hills,  and  I  think  I  could  jess  see  you  smile 
while  you  standin'  dar  in  the  w^agin  tryin'  to 
hole'er  down  and  mek  'er  regilate  'er  voice.  Dat 
I  did,  suh;  I  could  jess  see  you.  Yes,  suh, 
Susie  sing  a  song  right  tonight.  An  ole  Bill,  my 
ole  hoss  here,  ole  fool,  he  git  skeerdt,  an'  mek 
lak  he  gwine  left  me  dar  een  de  road,  but  I   fetch 


How  ZACH  CAMK  to  CoLLEGH  tQ 

him  a  whack  'cross  de  hade  wid  dis  stick  au'  fotch 
him  to  he  senses.  But  I  knowd  'tvvus  you,  an' 
ole  Towser,  dar,  he  might  knowed  'twus  me 
a-comin',  fur  it  look  lak  any  do^:  whut  kin  smell 
a  'coon  good  es  ole  Towser  kin,  oughter  smell  a 
nigger  clean  'cross  de  mountain." 

The  mountaineer  was  not  displeased  that  the 
old  man  liked  the  song  of  the  whipthong,  but 
noticed  that  he  had  not  answered  his  question. 
So  he  repeated,  "But  whut  you  out  so  late  fur 
tonight,  Uncle  Jack?  And  whut's  dat  you  got 
thar  in  your  cornsack?     I  think  that's  a  jug." 

"O,  go  long,  Marse  Zach;  don't  bodder  'bout 
whar  ole  nigger  gwine.  Don't  you  know  I  spec- 
table  darkey?" 

"Yes,  Uncle  Jack,  I  know  you  is  lacked  by  the 
white  folks,  but  le'  me  gi'  you  a  piece  o'  my  jaw: 
3^ou  quit  totin'  whiskey  fur  dese  fellers.  They'll 
git  you  into  trouble.  The  fust  news  you  know 
dese  revenue  officers  will  hev  you  in  jail." 

"Das  so,  Marse  Zach,  das  so,  an'  I  promise 
you  I  gwine  quit  it  rite  now.     Dat  I  do." 

Jack  was  a  good  old    ante-bellum  darkey  that 


20  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.LEGK 

everybody  liked,  but  he  bad  one  great  weakness: 

he  lo\'ed  whiskey.     But,  like  many  white  men,  he 
would  promise  reformation   anywhere  and  at  an}^ 

time. 

"Marse  Zach,  I  mighty  glad  I  meet  you  tonight. 
I  jes'  fixin'  to  go  over  ter  3^0'  house  tomorro'  to 
tell  you  'bout  it." 

"  'Bout  whut,  Uncle  Jack?" 

"  'Bout  dat  bee  tree  I  fine  yistiddy.  Yas,  suh, 
down  dar  not  fur  fum  de  Gum  Spring  on  de  lovv-er 
eend  uv  yo'  ma's  plantation,  I  find  a  bee  tree 
De  big  poplar  dar,  suh;  j^ou  know  whar  'tis.  An' 
I  was  jis'  comin'  over  tomorro'  ter  tell  j^ou  'bout 
it  an'  ax  you  let  me  lie'p  cut  it  down  an'  gi'  me 
leetle  o'  de  honey  fur  Dinah  an'  de  chillun." 

"Why  Uncle  Jack,  I  am  mighty  glad  to  hear  dat. 
Is  you  sho'  it's  a  bee  tree?  An'  does  ^'■ou  think  dere's 
much  honey  een  it?" 

"Sho,  suh,  sho;  an'  I'll  bet  ole  Bill  gin  Towser 
dar's  fifteen  gallons  honey  in  it." 

"Well,  we'll  not  bet  'bout  it,  but  I  hope  j^ou  air 
right.  It  will  be  a  great  he'p  to  me.  You  see, 
Uncle  Jack,  I've  got  to  make  uver  cent  I  kin  this 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvLEGE  21 

summer;  I  mean  to  go  off  to  college  nex'  October 
an'  git  a  edication,  an'  dat  honey  will  sell  power- 
ful well  in  Spartanburg." 

"An',  Marse  Zach,  whut  is  edication,  an'  whut 
you  gwine  do  wid  it  when  you  git  it?" 

"To  git  a  edication,  Uncle  Jack,  means  to  larn 
somethin',  an'-  git  wise  an'  useful  an'  able  to  do 
somethin'." 

"Bless  my  life,  Marse  Zach,  you  de  wisest  an'de 
ablist  white  man  in  dese  mountains  now,  case  I 
hear  a  might}^  putty  little  gal  say  so  yistiddy. 
She  say  you  de  bess  lookin'  man  in  North  Caliny, 
andean  tro\vdown  an'  lick  anything  what  walks 
on  two  foots.  I  don't  see  whutj^ou  gwine  do  wid 
dat  thing  you  call  edication  when  you  git  it." 

The  smile  that  had  wreathed  the  face  of  the 
mountaineer  quickly  gave  place  to  a  frown.  For 
the  first  time  since  the  birth  of  his  purpose,  the 
thought,  "What  will  Katie  saj^  of  my  plan?" 
rushed  through  his  brain  and  for  an  instant  took 
his  breath.  As  soon  as  he  could  get  control  of 
himself  he  said,  with  some  deliberation: 

"Well,  come  over  tomorrow  at  8  o'clock,  Uncle 


22  HOW  ZACH  CAMR  TO  COLLEGE 

Jack,    and  we'll  cut  the  bee  tree.     Good  night." 
"Good  night,  Marse  Zack,  you'll  have  ter  mek 
Susie  sing   anudder   song,  if   dem   steer   git  you 
home  'fo'  de  chicken  crow." 

Susie  sang  only  a  note  or  two,  but  they  were 
full  of  meaning,  and  the  now  rested  oxen  bounded 
forward  with  alacrity.  The  mountaineer  put  Su- 
sie in  her  place  and  said  with  a  deep,  long-drawn 
sigh:  "And  what  will  Katie  say?" 

chaptp:r  IV. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  before  the  tired  steers 
halted  under  a  shed  in  the  yard  of  the  humble 
mountain  home.  The  driver  patted  their  throb- 
bing flanks  and  spoke  kind,  appreciative  words  to 
them,  for  he  valued  the  services  and  respected  the 
feelings  of  his  faithful,  dumb  servants  as  only  a 
man  of  heart  can  do.  Having  watered  and  fed  the 
steers,  the  mountaineer  went  into  the  house  and 
was  met  at  the  door  by  his  devoted  mother  who 
had  not  closed  her  eyes,  but  had  watched  and 
waited  through  all  the  long  hours  for  the  home- 
coming of  her  son. 

"Come  in,  my  son.  come  in,  you  be  late  tonight; 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLIvKGB  23 

I  am  so  glad  to  see  3^ou,"  said  his  mother  in  a  gen- 
tle, sweet  voice. 

"Thank  you,  mother,"  said  the  mountaineer, 
tenderly  kissing  the  woman  who  had  given  so 
much  of  her  life  for  his  own  comfort  and  happiness. 
"You  haint  bin  scared,  is  you,  mother?" 

"No,  no;  I  wasn't  skeerdt, — but  I  couldn't 
he'p  feelin'  a leetle  oneasy  'bout  ye." 

"Why,  mother,  nobody  in  dese  mountings 
would  hurt  me." 

"No  brave  man  would,  my  son,  but  you  knov/ 
thar  is  so  many  mean  people  on  de  3^erth.  The 
folks  knows  that  you  don't  favor  mekin'  and  sell- 
in'  liquor,  and  I  jist  got  to  thinkin'  that  mebbe 
some  of  'em  mought  like  to  have  you  outen  the 
way.  I  couldn't  sleep  till  I  seed  you  safe  and 
sound  at  home.  But  you  must  eat  your  supper, — 
I  know  you  is  monstous  tired.  I  tried  to  keep 
your  supper  warm  by  pushin'  the  chunks  together. 
The  coffee  is  good  and  warm,  but  I'm  afeard  the 
bread  is  cold." 

"Thank  you,  mother;  I  aint  hongry,  but  I'll 
eat  jest  fur  your  sake, — you  is  so  good  an'  kind 
to  keep  my  supper  warm  fur  me, ' ' 


24  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

"Did  you  feed  the  critters,  son?"  the  thought- 
ful mother  asked. 

"Yes,  mother,  the  steers  is  watered   and  fed." 
"Now  then  draw  up  a  cheer  and  eat  a  bite  your- 
self and  then  go  to  bed,  fur  it's  almost  time  to  get 
up  and  you  haint  had  a  wink  o'  sleep." 

The  obedient  son  threw  himself  into  a  chair 
which  he  dragged  to  the  side  of  a  little  table  and 
devoutl}^  gave  thanks  to  God  for  all  his  blessings. 
The  mother  took  a  seat  directly  in  front  of  her 
son,  placed  her  elbows  on  the  table,  rested  her  chin 
in  her  hands  and  lovingly  looked  into  the  face  of 
her  boy  who  ate  with  a  "comin'  appetite." 

"I  want  you  to  try  some  of  this  fresh  honey, 
Zachie,  with  that  bit  o'  meat.  I  think  you'll  find 
it  nice;  I  robbed  a  gum  to-day  and  got  a  fine  chance 
and  accordin'  to  my  taste  hit  is  a  fine  quality  too; 
hit  ought  to  bring  a  good  price  in  town,  did  you 
ax  whut  honey  is  fetchin',  son?" 

By  this  time  the  mountaineer  had  tasted  the 
honey  and,  smacking  his  lips,  said:  "It  is  cer- 
tainly fine,  mother,  and  will  fetch  the  top  o*  the 
piarket.     But  I  furgit  to  ax  the  price;  this  is  been 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^LKGE)  25 

a  big  da)^  fur  me,  au'  I  furgit  sev'al  things   that  I 
'spected  to  'tend  to. " 

Here  the  son,  knowing  that  he  had  before  him 
one  who  could  sympathize  with  him,  though  she 
might  not  understand  or  appreciate  f  uU}^  his  plans, 
opened  his  mouth  and  heart,  and  told  her  all  he 
had  seen  and  much  of  what  he  had  heard,  and 
then  said:  "Mother,  I  want  to  go  to  college,  and 
ef  God  will  gi'  me  health,  and  j^ou  will  he'p  me, 
I  will  go,  an'  I'll  promise  you  to  make  a  man  that 
you  will  be  proud  of.     Will  you  he'p  me,  mother?" 

The  gentle  little  woman,  whose  heart  throbbed 
always  in  unison  with  that  of  her  stalwart  son, 
brushed  a  tear  from  each  e5^e  with  the  corner  of 
her  homespun  apron,  and  said  in  a  calm,  clear 
voice:  "God  knows  I'm  proud  of  you  already,  my 
son;  you  has  always  been  a  joy  to  3'our  widowed 
mother,  and  you  kin  nuver  do  ennything  to  mek 
me  love  you  better' n  I  do  now;  but  your  happi- 
ness is  my  happiness  and  3^our  plans  is  my  plans. 
When  the  Lord  tuck  3^0'  brave  father,  I  promised 

Him  that  ef  He  would  spar  you  to  me  I  would  do 
my  best  to  bring  you  up  in  His  fear.  He  has  an- 
swered my  prayers  and  you  have  not  disappointed 


26  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLIvKGK 

me.  These  han's  has  worked  hard  for  you,  my 
son.  They  tremble  sometimes  now,  but  I  can  do 
a  good  deal  yit,  and  you  shill  hev  the  best  that  I 
kin  do  to  he-'p  you  carry  out  your  plans," 

The  big-hearted  mountaineer  was  now  standing 
by  the  side  of  his  tiiother,  and,  taking  her  tenderly 
in  his  arms,  he  said,  with  a  choking  voice:  "Thank 
you,  precious  mother,  I  want  to  larn  somethin'  fur 
your  sake." 

It  was  now  late,  or  early,  and  time  that  both 
were  sleeping,  but  the  new  purpose  born  the  day 
before,  and  now  become  the  purpose  of  both, 
promised  such  a  radical  change  in  the  plans  of 
both  lives  that  sleep  was  banished  from  their 
eyes. 

Long  and  lovingly  talked  mother  and  son.  The 
mother's  whole  mind  was  now  bent  on  devising 
ways  and  means  for  getting  her  son  off  to  college. 

"What  time  does  50U  hev  afore  the  college 
begins  again,  son?''  asked  the  mother  thought- 
fully. 

"I  will  have  to  leave  iiome  the  fust  of  October, 
mother." 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI.EGR  27 

"Three  months  and  a  leetle  better,"  said  the 

mother,  more  to  herself  than  to  her  sou. 

*'Wecandoa  good    deal  in  that   time,    Zachie. 

There  is  plenty   of  grass  now,    and    the  cows  is 
doin'  well.     Old  Spec  will   be  givin'  milk  in  eight 
or  ten   days,    and    her   milk  is  very    rich.     We'll 
deny  ourselves  and  sell    all  the  butter.     Then  the 
bees  is  doin'  well,    we'll  sell  lots   o'  houe}^     And 
I'll    mek    the   chickens  and   eggs    fetch    us  more 
money.     I  have  twenty    young  turkeys  now,  and 
I  found  another   turkey    nest    this   mornin'    with 
thirteen  eggs  in  it.     I'll  do  the  best  I  kin  with  all 
these  and  card  and  spin  and  weave  the  wool    You 
can  go  to  town   every  two  weeks   and  turn  some- 
thin'  into  money." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  know  you  will  do  much  more'n 

yo'  part.     But,  mother,    it  hurts   me  to    hear  you 
talk  'bout  denyin'  j^ourself  anything." 

"My  dear  son,  is  it  not  a  pleasure  for  me  to 
deny  myself  anything  for  you?  Did  I  not  deny 
myself  many  a  night's  sleep  when  I  nursed  3^ou 
through  that  awful  spell  o'  scarlet  fever?  And 
has  not  yo'  love  paid  me  fur  all  my  trouble  ten 
thousand  times  over?" 


28  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI.I.EGE 

Then  with  a  husk}'-  voice  the  mountaineer  said: 
"God  bless  you,  mother;  with  you  on  my  side  I 
kin  do  anything." 

"Zachie,  my  son,  do  you  hear  that  rooster?  It 
is  'most  day — do  go  to  bed  and  git  some  sleep. 
You  can't  work  bethout  sleep." 

"Fur  3'o'  sake,  mother,  I'll  go.  I  am  not 
sleepy,  but  I'll  go  to  bed,  so  that  you  may  lie 
dow^n  an'  git  some  rest.     Good  night." 

Zach  walked  into  his  little  room  and,  throwing 
himself  upon  his  knees,  he  reverently  thanked 
God  for  his  loving,  sympathetic  mother;  begged 
Him  to  spare  her  life  many  years,  to  spare  his 
own  life,  and  give  him  health  and  strength  to 
carry  out  his  plans  for  improving  his  mind,  and 
promised  in  return  a  life  of  faithful  service. 

Then,  jumping  into  bed,  he  slept  the  sleep  of 
the  innocent. 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  sun  was  peeping  in  through  the  crack 
under  the  door  that  morning  long  before  Zach's 
eyes  opened  to  the  light.  How"  ^ong  he  might 
have  slept  is  not  known,  but  ''Uncle  Jack"  w^as 
true   to  his  promise  and  came  at   the   appointed 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  29 

hour  to  cut  the  bee  tree.  Old  Towser  "winded'' 
the  African,  yelped  a  note  of  warning  and 
aroused  his  master  from  his  slumbers.  Zach  was 
soon  bathing  his  face  in  the  cool,  clear  water  that 
flowed  out  from  the  mountain  not  many  feet  from 
the  back  door  of  the  little  house,  and  felt  ashamed 
that  he  had  slept  so  late  while  his  mother  was  up 
preparing  his  breakfast  for  him. 

The  two  sat  down  to  breakfast  and,  wdiile  eat- 
ing, again  discussed  their  plans  for  the  summer. 
The  sou  told  his  mother  of  old  Jack's  find  near 
the  Gum  Spring,  and  of  his  promise  to  give  the 
old  negro  some  of  the  hone}^  for  his  assistance  in 
cutting  the  tree.  The  mother  had  known  bee 
trees  to  be  found  containing  many  gallons  of 
honey,  and  expressed  the  hope  that  old  Jack's 
find  might  be  a  genuine  bee  tree  and  contain  an 
abundance  of  honey  and  the  honej'comb.  "Your 
success  or  failure  this  mornin',"  she  said,  "ma)^ 
be  a  sign  of  good  or  bad  luck  in  your  summer's 
work.  But  Zachie,  my  son,  what  vvill  Katie 
say?" 

'  *I  have  thought  of  that,  mother;  I  have  thought 


30  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLI^EIGE 

of  all  that.     Katie  is  a  sensible  gal,    and  will  not 
stand  in  the  wa}^  of  my  plans.'' 

Old  Jack  waited  as  patiently  as  possible  for  the 
mountaineer  to  finish  his  breakfast,  but  stimulated 
by  Dinah's  joyful  anticipations,  was  anxious  to 
try  the  temper  of  his  keen-bladed  axe  on  the  big 
bee  tree.  After  a  ten-minutes'  walk  the  two 
stood  at  the  roots  of  the  large  poplar  not  far  from 
the  big  Gum  Spring.  The  trained  eye  of  the 
mountaineer  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  the  home 
of  a  colony  of  bees,  and,  in  all  probability,  con- 
tained many  gallons  of  honey. 

It  was  an  unusually  large   tree.      **MyIyawd," 

said  Uncle  Jack,    "Marse  Zach,  dat    tree  must  be 
five  foot  tru  de  butt-cut. ' ' 

"I    think    not,    quite.    Uncle  Jack,''    said   his 

friend,  "but  it  mought  be  four  foot." 

"Well,    howsoever,    you'll  arn  de   salt  in   your 

dinner  'fo'  we  git  it  cut  down." 

Towser  and  Zeno  had  been   brought  along  and 

the    mountaineer's    old-fashioned     flint-and-steel 

rifle.     Every  squirrel  skin   would  go  a  little  way 

toward  swelling  the  fund  necessary    to  defray  his 

expenses  at  college. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  3 1 

Spitting  on  their  hands  after  the  manner  of  the 

woodsman,  the  two   fell  to    work  on  the  tr«e,  and 

for  several  minutes  the  large  chips  flew  thick  and 

fast.     Stopping   to    "get    their    wind,"    old    Jack 

said:   "Marse  Zach,    s'posin'  der  be  a   coon  in  dis 

tree.  De  bees  is  way  up  yonder,  and  I  see  a  hole 
up  dar  'bout  thirty  foot  whut  look  powerful  slick 
lak  some  warmiut  bin  crawlin'  een  and  out." 

"I  hope  we  shell  find  a  coon  or  some  squir'ls  in 

thar,  Uncle    Jack.     I    hev  had   sich   luck    in  my 

time." 

"Me,  too;  and  I  notice  old  Towser  might}'  busy 

out  dar  smellin'    'bout   dem  logs — I    b'lieve   coon 

bin  long  dar  since  the  chicken  crow  dismornin'." 

"Whar  is  Zeno?  His  nose  is  colder  than  Tow- 
ser's,"  said  the  mountaineer,  "and  ef  a  coon's 
been  along  here  since  4  o'clock,  old  Zeno  will  tell 
3'ou  'bout  it." 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  before  old 
Zeno,  known  as  the  "strike  dog,''  "gave  mouth' 
just  over  the  ridge. 

"Dar  now!  Whut  I  tell  you?  Talk  to  him' 
old  boy!  Tell  him  'bout  it!  When  old  Brer  Coon 
put  he  foot  on  de  groun'    ol'  Zeno   sho  to  pass  de 


32  HOW  ZACH  CAMJ5  TO  COtlvKGK 

time  a  day  wid  him,"  ejaculated  old  Jack,  as  much 
delightc^d  as  if  he  had  found  a  uew,  crisp  ten-dol- 
lar bill.  At  the  first  note  from  Zeno  old  Towser, 
with  bristles  up,  bounded  across  the  ridge  to  join 
him.  , 

**Dat  mought  be  a  squirl  old  Zeno  smell,"  the 
mountaineer  said. 

"No,  suh,  narry  squir'l;  didn't  you  see  old 
Towser' s  bristles  and  hear  him  whine?  No,  suh; 
dat  old  pup  spilin'  fur  a  fight.  Dogs  know  each 
udder's  words  jess  same  ez  me  an'  you.  When  old 
Zeno  smack  he  lips  and  say  'coon  bin  here,'  Tow- 
ser know  jess  de  same  lak  you  know  when  I 
tell  you  dis  a  bee  tree.  Yes,  suh,  dat  a  coon,  an' 
3'ou  give  old  Zeno  time  and  he'll  show  j^ou  whar 
dat  old  coon  sleepin'  now." 

The  old  darkey  was  right.  The  trail  was  a  cold 
one  and  it  was  some  ten  minutes  before  Towser 
could  "give  mouth"  at  all,  but  the  old  fellow 
kept  up  a  continual  whining  because  of  his  confi- 
dence in  the  accuracy  of  the  statements  made  by 
his  companion. 

"That's  a  cold   trail,    Uncle  Jack;  let's   go   on 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGK  33 

with  the  cuttin'  and  let  the   dogs  cipher  it   out  ef 
the}^  kin,"  said  the  mountaineer. 

"Dat's  so/'  responded  the  old  man,  biting  off  a 
big  quid  from  a  twist  of  home-raised  tobacco; 
''dat's  a  cole  trail,  but  old  Zeno  will  sho  spile  de 
rest  uvdat  ole  coon  dis  morniu'." 

With  an  occasional  whoop  of  encouragement, 
the  dogs  were  left  to  solve  their  own  problem, 
while  the  two  men  plied  their  axes  with  renewed 
vigor,  the  old  negro  making  with  each  stroke  of 
his  glittering  blade  that  peculiar  gutteral  noise  so 
common  among  regular  wood  choppers  while  run- 


ning a  race. 


After  crawling  over  and  under  fences,  walking 
many  logs,  paddling  up  and  down  the  branch  and 
crossing  and  recrossing  the  ridge  a  half  score  of 
times,  old  Towser,  warming  up  for  the  fight  and 
uttering  faster  and  faster  that  abrupt,  quick  yelp 
characteristic  of  the  experienced  coon  dog,  the 
faithful  canines  wound  up  at  the  roots  of  the  big 
poplar  on  which  the  men  were  cutting. 

The  old  man's  joy  knew  no  bounds,  for  the  an- 
ticipations   of    delicious    wild    honey    were  aug- 


34  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvLKGE 

mented    by    the    thought   of  roasted  coon-meat. 

Indeed  the  white   man  and   the  black  man  drove 

their  axes  into  the  poplar  with  a  will,  this  promise 

of  a  double  rew^ard  greatiy  stimulating  their  ef- 
forts. 

The  tree  fell  at  last.  When  it  did,  not  one,  but 
two  coons  ran  out,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  both 
men  and  dogs.  Each  dog  tackled  a  coon.  Old 
Towser,  in  his  effort  to  get  at  his,  ran  through 
the  bees,  now  pouring  out  of  the  log  in  great 
numbers.  The  old  veteran  had  fought  many 
bloody  battles,  but  never  before  had  he  tackled 
coon  and  bees  at  the  same  time?  He  whined  pit- 
eously,  but  never  for  once  did  he  loosen  his  grip 
till  he  heard  the  cracking  of  the  coon's  breast 
bones  and  felt  the  ominous  quivering  of  his  mus- 
cles. The  old  negro  saw  the  predicament  of  the 
notorious  coon  fighter  and  ran  to  his  assistance. 
To  his  amazement  the  bees,  with  one  accord,  left 
the  dog  and  literally  covered  him.  For  a  while 
the  old  man  got  young  again.  He  was  "the  com- 
bination of  the  mule  and  billy  goat — he  kicked 
with  one  end  and  butted   with  the  other."     "My 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^I^ICGK  35 

Lawd,  Marse  Zach,"  he  screamed,  "come  hep  me 
fight  dese  bees!  Geminy,  Moses  and  Dinah,  dey's 
killin'  me!  For  Gawd's  sake  Marse  Zach,  hep  me 
git  my  clothes  off,  der's  ten  thousand  in  my 
britches."  The  old  fellow  ha:d  by  this  time  rid 
himself  of  his  tattered  shirt  and  was  vainly  tug- 
ging at  his  pantaloons  and  rolling  over  on  the 
ground. 

"Run  to  the  branch,  you  old  fool!"  cried  the 
mountaineer.      "Get  in  the  water!" 

Jack  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  the  stream  and 
buried  himself  in  the  water.  The  two  men  had 
neglected  to  take  precautionary  measures  against 
the  possible  attack  of  the  bees,  and  the  old  darkey 
was  now  paying  the  penalty  of  their  thoughtless- 
ness. 

"Marse  Zach,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  could 
speak,  "how  de  name  er  Gawd  kin  sich  things  ez 
dem  mek  honey?  Fo'  Gawd,  dey  kin  sting  wid 
one  eend  an'  bite  wid  t'other.  My  eyes  is  swel- 
lin',  Marse  Zach,  an'  yer  some  de  leetle  devils 
stickin'  een  my  har  yit." 

The  good-natured  mountaineer,  seeing  the  dogs 


36  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COIvIvKGK 

had  dispatched  both  coons,  had  withdrawn  a  safe 
distance  from  the  buzzing  bees,  and,  convulsed 
with  laughter,  was  rolling  on  the  ground. 

The  cutting  of  the  bee  tree  proved  to  be  a  profit- 
able enterprise.  The  skins  of  the  coons  would  be 
ready  for  market  as  soon  as  they  could  be  dried, 
and  the  tree  was  packed  with  the  finest  kind  of 
honey.  Old  Jack  was  given  the  flesh  of  the  two 
coons,  together  with  the  honey  he  was  promised 
for  his  assistance. 

* 'Dinah  an'  de  chillun  will  grin  over  dis  honey," 
said  Jack,  ''but  es  fur  me,  I'll  tek  de  coon  meat; 
I  got  nuff  dem  bees.  Bless  Gawd,  my  head  big  is 
a  bar'l  now,  and  wun  my  eye  dun  clean  shot.  I 
don't  want  no  more  honey.  Good-bye,  Marse  Zach; 
guess  next  time  old  Towser  fight  coon  an'  bees  to- 
gedder  he  can  fight  it  out  hisself, — dis  chile  gwine 
tudder  way." 

The  mountaineer  and  his  mother  were  well  pleas- 
ed with  the  success  of  the  morning.  The  coon 
pelts  were  nailed  to  the  barn  door  in  the  place  of 
two  others  that  were  dried  sufficiently  for  market. 
That  night  a  careful  and  accurate  inventory  was 


HOW  ZACH  CAMI5  TO  COI.LKGE  37 

made  of  their  available,  marketable  assets,  and  an- 
other trip  to  Spartanburg  arranged  for  the  follow- 
ing Monday  morning, 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Saturday  afternoon  found  Zach  at  the  home  of 
Joe  Langford  just  a  mile  and  a  half  from  his  own. 
Katie  must  know  of  his  new  purpose  and  the  soon- 
er the  better,  so  he  determined  to  inform  her  at 
once. 

It  had  been  a  bus}^  day  with  Katie.  Every- 
thing was  prepared  now  for  the  Sabbath,  and  she 
had  just  finished  milking  when  the  mountaineer 
walked  into  the  yard.  The  two  seated  themselves 
under  a  large  elm  tree  that  stood  not  far  from  the 
door  of  the  cottage,  and  Zach  thought  the  rosy- 
cheeked  girl  of  seventeen  never  looked  sweeter  in 
all  her  life.  The  mountain  lassie  did  not  conceal 
her  pleasure  at  the  presence  of  her  lover,  and  talked 
with  her  accustomed  ease  and  fluency;  and  when 
Zach  beheld  her  in  all  her  loveliness,  and  thought 
of  losing  her  after  all,  his  heart  sank  within  him. 

A  weaker  man  would  have  abandoned  his  purpose 
then   and    there^    and    set  about   completing  the 


38  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE 

arrangements    for    wedding  Katie  the    following 

November.     But  Zacli  w^as  made  of  sterner  stuff; 

with  him  the  die  v.-as  cast,   and  Zach  w^as  a  man. 

■     Taking  his  sweetheart's  hand    in  his,  he  said  in 

an  awkward,   stumbling  way;  "Katie,  I  loves  you 

powerful,  an'  God  knows   you  is  the  fust  an'  onli- 

est  gal  I  uver  did  love.     I  got  sumpin  to  say  to  3^ou 

an'   sumpin  to  ax   you,  but   I  want   you  to  think 

'bont  it  good  afore  3'ou  answer  me." 

"Zachie,"  said  the   half-frightened  girl,  'Vhut 

is   the  matter   wid  5^ou?     Your  bans   is  tremblin' 

and  I  never   seed  5'ou  look    so  tarrified, — whut  is 

the  matter?" 

Then  the  poor  fellow  told  her  of  all  that  he  had 

seen  and  heard  on  his  recent  visit  to  Spartanburg, 
and  told  her  of  his  purpose  to  have  a  diploma  him- 
self. 

By  this  time  he  had  gotten  full  control  of  himself 

and  lifting  the  white  fingers  to  his  lips,  he  said  in 

his  gentlest  tones: 

"Katie,  will  you  wait  on  me  till  I  git  my  edica- 
tion?  Don't  answer  me  now,  but  think  'bout  it, 
an' answer  me  nex'  week." 

The  face  of  the   lovely  girl,  this  simple-hearted 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.LEGE  39 

child  of  nature,  was  clouded  for  a  few  seconds,  and 

she  said  with  a  noticeable  tremor  in  her  voice:  "But, 

Zachie,  hit  will  tek  you  so  long.     We  can  git  'long 

bethout  all  that  expense  an'  trouble.     Ma  told  me 

jist  to-day  that  she  would  gi'  me  Old  Brindle  an' 

her  calf  an' a  new    featherbed,    an'   I  already  has 

six  blankets  and  fourteen  quilts.     Weans  kin  git 

along.''     And    Katie   brushed    a   tear  away  that 

danced  upon  her   long  lashes  in   spite  of  the   fact 

that  she  bit  her  lips  in  her  efforts  to  keep  it  back. 

"O  yes;  we  could   git  along,  but  I  wants  more 

than  jes  to  git  along.     I  wants  to  larn  sumpin  and 

be  sumpin  and  do  sumpin.     I  don't  know  how  long 

it  will  tek  me  to  git  a  edication.     Hit  mought  tek 

me  five   j^ears;    mebbe   seven.     But  did  not  Jacob 

work  seven  long  year  fur  his  wife,  an'  can't  I  'ford 

to  work,    not  lak  a   sarvant,    but   lak  a   free  man 

— can't  I  'ford  to   labour  an'  stud}^  hard  fur  seven 

long  3'ear  to  larn  sumpin  an'  mek  myself  worthy 

of  sich  a  gal  as  you  is?" 

"Then  ^^ou'll  be  a  great  man  an'  marry  some 
rich  city  gal, — you  will  not  look  at  Katie  then"' 
sobbed  the  innocent  girl  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands. 


40  HOW  ZACH  CAUH  TO  COLIvKGE 

The  mountaineer  had  grappled  with  the  wound- 
ed bear  in  a  death  struggle  and  had  licked  a  ruff- 
ian "out  of  his  boots"  for  cursing  him  because  of 
his  opposition  to  "moonshining,"  but  never  before 
had  he  received  such  a  shock  as  this.  He  was 
staggered  by  a  sense  of  his  utter  helpless.  Trained 
in  the  school  of  experience  to  meet  every  emer- 
gency, however,  he  failed  not  in  this.  Raising 
the  drooping  head  of  the  girl  he  loved,  he  looked 
into  her  tear-dimmed  eyes  and  said: 

"Katie,  that  hurts  me.  Don't  do  that.  You 
don't  understand  me.  I  kin  fetch  you  books  an' 
you  kin  larn  a  powerful  heap  b}^  readin'  an'  stud}-- 
in'  'em.  You  know  more  than  I  does  now.  You 
have  read  several  books  an'  I  know  you  laks  to 
read.     I  haint  read  nothin'  but  my  Bible." 

That  was  a  happy  stroke.  The  girl  brushed  the 
tears  from  her  face  and  smiled  a  sweet  smile  into 
the  eyes  of  her  distressed  lover.  By  some  chance 
a  copy  of  Longfellow's  poems  and  one  of  Haw- 
thorne's Grandfather's  Chair  had  fallen  into  her 
hands  and  she  had  read  and  re-read  them  until  she 
was  recognized  as  "the  smartest  gal  in  the  moun- 
tings." 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE  41 

It  was  the  thought  of  getting  other  books  and  of 
becomins:  educated  herself  that  dried  Katie's  tears 
and  reinstated  the  beautiful  dimples  in  her  cheeks. 
Raising  both  her  hands  as  if  about  to  pat  his  two 
fat  cheeks,  she  said,  in  tones  that  thrilled  her 
heart-sick  lover: 

"Zachie,  do  forgive  me;  I  am  so  foolish.  I 
know  that  you  love  me  and  that  it  is  all  for  the 
best.  I  am  onl}^  seventeen,  and  3^ou  will  bring  me 
books  and  I  shall  see  3^ou  every  summer  and  every 
Christmas;  of  course  I  will  wait  on  you  ef  it  takes 
you  ten  years  stiddier  seven."  What  happened 
then?  Well,  just  let  that  be  Katie  and  Zachie's 
secret.  The  stars  were  shining  now  and  winked 
at  one  another  significantl3^ 

The  mountaineer  was  supremely  happy  when  he 
told  his  mother  that  night  of  Katie's  approval  of 
his  plans.  The  next  day  at  meetin'  he  "heisted 
the  hymes''  and  sang  as  he  had  never  sung  before. 

Zach's  next  trip  to  Spartanburg  was  a  success- 
ful one.     He  had  no  difficult}^  in   disposing  of  his 

•'garden  truck,"  honey  and  skins,  and  got  fair 
prices  for  all.  Indeed,  Providence  seemed  to  smile 
pn  the  mountaineer's    efforts  during   the   entire 


42  HOW  ZACH  CAM:e  TO  COLLEGE 

summer.  Many  trips  were  made  "to  town,"  and 
never  one  without  adding  something  to  his  small 
amount  of  cash.  His  mother  was  particularlj^  suc- 
cessful with  her  dairy  and  poultry  yard,  and  the 
mountaineer  rejoiced  that  his  hogs  were  entirely 
free  from  cholera  and  his  sheep  seldom  disturbed 
by  the  hungry  fox.  Besides,  his  long  rifle  added 
not  a  few  dimes  to  his  exchequer,  while  Towser 
and  Zeno  did  their  full  share. 

CHAPTER     VII. 

When  the  old  college  bell  announced  the  open- 
ing of  another  session  on  the  ist  of  October,  the 
mountaineer  was  there  ready  for  business.  He 
wore  a  bright  new  suit  of  blue  jeans  and  a  pair  of 
heavy  boots,  rough  but  clean.  So  tall,  so  large, 
so  muscular,  he  looked  a  giant  among  the  boys 
and  37oung  men  there  assembled.  Indeed,  his  pres- 
ence would  have  been  hailed  with  delight  if  the 
game  of  football  as  now  played  had   been  known. 

"The  big  fellow"  was  examined  and  assigned  to 
the  preparatory  department.  He  asked  no  favors, 
but  his  quiet,  unostentatious,  and  earnest  manner 
impressed  faculty  and  students   that  he  came  for 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  C0LI.E:GK  43 

business  and  meant  to  win.  He  hired  one  of  the 
large  rooms  on  the  lower  floor  of  the  college  build- 
ing, installed  a  very  small  cooking  stove,  and  in 
that  room  he  lived,  doing  his  own  cooking  and 
washing. 

A  few  of  the  more  fortunate  students  were  dis- 
posed, at  first,  to  laughjat  the  idea  of  such  an  un- 
dertaking, but  it  was  not  long  until  the  "big  fellow 
in  blue  jeans"  had  the  respect  of  the  entire  stu- 
dent body. 

Unused  to  study,  the  mountaineer  found  his 
work  very  difficult  and  his  environment  very  try- 
ing. He  missed  the  fresh  mountain  air  and  the 
freedom  of  his  untrammelled  mountain  life.  For 
the  first  few  weeks,  there  were  times  that  sorely 
tried  his  manhood.  Once  or  twice  he  was  on  t  h 
verge  of  wishing  he  were  back  again  by  Katie's  side 
and  forever  done  with  books  and  slates  and  college 
bells.  But  Zach  was  a  man,  and  a  man  with  a  pur- 
pose, not  a  boy  drifting  with  the  tide.  So.  clinch- 
ing his  heavy  fist,  he  brought  it  down  on  his  little 
table  with  such  force  as  almost  crushed  it,  and  said: 
"I  am  no  genius,  but  I'm  no  fool;  other  men  have 


44  HOW  ZACH  came:  to  COLIvEGK 

learned  these  lessons  and  I  can  do  it,  too. ' '  And  he 
did. 

The  weeks  passed  rapidly  by,  and  tl^e  mountain- 
eer found  himself  fond  of  his  vrork  and  in  love 
with  his  teachers  and  associates.  His  genial  dis- 
position and  the  honest  earnestness  of  the  man 
drew  others  to  him;  and  though  he  did  not  ask  it, 
several  of  the  best  men  in  his  class  volunteered  to 
assist  him  until  he  could  ''get  on  his  feet." 

The  mountaineer's  jQrst  year  at  college  seemed 
to  him  very  short  as  indeed  is  always  the  case  with 
the  earnest,  faithful  student  who  means  to  waste 
no  time.  But  he  was  glad  to  get  home  again  to 
press  to  his  bosom  his  devoted  mother  and  faith- 
full  all}^,  to  romp  with  Tow.ser  and  Zeno,  and  to 
look  into  the  loving  eyes  of  Katie,  his  black-eyed 
lassie. 

The  summer  was  spent  very  largely  as  was  the 
previous  one  except  that  the  mountaineer  taught 
the  public  school  for  thirty  da5^s.  In  this  he  was 
eminently  successful,  winning  the  confidence  of 
his  pupils  and,  through  them,  the  respect  and  ad' 
miration  of  their  parents. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  45 

Many  of  his  neighbors,  particular!}^  the  young 
men  and  maidens  of  the  neighborhood,  believed 
that  when  Zach  returned  from  college  he  would  be 
'bigetty  and  stuck  up  becase  he's  got  some 
larnin."  The}^  were  disappointed,  and  when,  on 
the  first  Sabbath  after  his  return,  he  walked  up  to 
a  group  standing  in  front  of  the  church  and  said: 
"Why,  hello,  fellers,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  3-0U  all 
again,-— how  do  you  all  do?"  their  suspicions  were 
thrown  to  the  winds.  He  put  his  arm  around  the 
neck  of  one  and  said,  "Bill,  old  fellow,  how  are 
you?  You  look  just  as  natural  as  cornbread.  Say 
Bill,  how's  your  gal,  is  she  as  pretty  as  ever?" 

Then  Jim  Snooks  ntidged  Bob  Satterwhite,  and 
said,  "By  gosh,  Bob,  he  aint  a  bit  bigetty;  dowled 
if  he  aint  the  same  old  Zach." 

Uncle  Jack  who  now  lived  in  the  cabin  on  the 
hill  near  the  Gum  Spring,  had  "pitched  the  crop" 
and  had  managed  it  well,  at  the  same  time  looking 
after  the  hogs  and  sheep  and  giving  Towser  and 
Zeno  an  occasional  run  over  the  hills  after  the 
coons  that  were  bold  enough  to  make  depredations 
on  his  "roasting  ears."  Zach  helped  him  to  ''lay 
by"  the  crop,  before  he  turned  school-master. 


46  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGK 

To  him  :his  was  a  delightful  summer,  though  he 
spent  not  an  idle  day.  Many  an  evening  he  spent 
with  Katie,  looking  into  the  depths  of  her  beauti- 
ful eyes  and  listening  to  her  talk  of  the  books  he 
had  sent  and  brought  her. 

But  Zach  was  ready  to  return  to  college  when 
the  time  came.  The  little  taste  he  had  had,  the 
sip  at  the  fountain  of  knowledge  had  developed  and 
strengthened  his  determination  to  drink  long  and 
well.  It  was  during  this  second  year  a  little  inci- 
dent occurred  that  made  the  mountaineer  the  hero 
among  the  college  boys. 

Our  reader  will  remember  that  this  was  during 
the  *  'reconstruction  period. ' '  Federal  troops  were 
garrisoned  in  almost  every  city  and  town  in  our 
state.  The  very  presence  of  the  blue-coats  made 
the  negroes  impudent  and  insulting  to  an  extent 
which  our  Northern  friends  have  never  been  able 
to  appreciate.  All  over  the  South,  for  a  dozen 
years  after  the  Civil  war,  there  were  frequent 
clashes  between  the  two  races.  In  some  cases, 
men  were  driven  to  desperation,  and  blood  was 
shed.     To  be  shoved  oS  the  side- walk  in  one's  own 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI.I.EGE  47 

town  and  be  cursed  by  a  former  slave  was  just  a 
little  more  than  the  blue-eyed  Anglo-Saxon  could 
stand.  A  clash  between  the  soldiers  and  the  WoiT- 
ord  College  students  on  account  of  the  latter's  re- 
sistance of  the  impudence  of  the  negroes  was  nar- 
rowly averted  more  than  once. 

There  were  not  many  negroes  in  Spartanburg, 
but  a  few  who  had  made  themselves  very  obnox- 
ious to  the  white  people  and  especially  to  the  stud- 
ents. One  tall,  angular,  copper-colored  negro 
came  to  Spartanburg  and  claimed  to  have  a  diploma 
from  one  of  the  Northern  colleges.  He  was  for  a 
time  "The  Reverend"  among  the  negroes,  and  he 
harangued  them  nightly  on  social  equality  and 
their  duty  to  have  and  to  hold  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment. His  brazen  effrontery  was  intolerable  and 
the  wonder  is  that  he  was  not  shot  to  death  before 

he  left  the  town. 

The  man  wore  good  clothes,  an  elegant  silk  hat, 

and  twirled  a  dainty  gold-headed  cane  in  his  much 

bejeweled  fingers.     He  was  large  and  strong — this 

educated  negro — had  jostled  several  of  the  student 
in  his  afternoon  perambulations,  and  really  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  sport,  apparently  selecting  his  streets 


48  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  C0I,I,KG:E 

for  the  purpose  of  meeting  the  bo)\s.  He  had  not 
seen  the  mountaineer.  The  fellow's  insolence  was 
discussed  more  than  once  by  groups  of  indignant 
college  boys.  The  mountaineer  heard  of  it.  He 
smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon  in  April.  The  moun- 
taineer and  two  of  his  classmates  strolled  dowm 
Church  Street.  They  had  not  gone  far  before  they 
met  the  "educated  gentleman  of  color"  walking 
very  leisurely,  looking  as  wise  as  an  owl  and  twirl- 
ing his  gold-headed  cane.  He  walked  close  to  the 
fence,  as  was  his  custom,  meaning  to  force  every- 
one he  met  to  take  the  outside  regardless  of  the  di- 
rection he  was  going.  The  mountaineer  saw  his 
purpose,  but  knew  that  he  and  his  companions 
were  entitled  to  the  inside  and  determined  to  have 
it  at  any  cost.  So  he  said  to  the  boys:  "Keep 
quiet  and  leave  him  to  me."  Stepping  directly  in 
front  of  the  burly  fellow,  he  seized  him  by  the 
lapels  of  his  tight-fitting  coat  and  shook  him  un- 
til his  silk  hat  and  little  cane  rolled  into  the  gut- 
ter; then  giving  him  a  twist  and  a  kick,  he  dumped 


> 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  49 

the  * 'educated  gentleman  of  color"  into  the  middle 
of  the  street,  saying  very  calmly:  "Now,  sir,  re- 
port that  if  you  dare,  and  we'll  tie  a  rock  to  your 
neck  and  feed  you  to  the  fishes  in  I^awson's  Fork.'' 
It  was  never  reported,  nor  was  any  other  wdiite 
person  ever  jostled  on  the  streets  of  Spartanburg 
by  this  interloper. 

The  next  vacation  was  spent,  as  was  the  pre- 
ceding one,  in  teaching  the  short-term  school  and 
in  marketing  everything  that  could  be  spared  from 
the  garden,  dairy  and  poultry  yard. 

I^ate  in  the  summer,  however,  Zach  determined 
to  drop  out  of  college  for  a  year  and  teach  school. 
A  ten-month  school  was  offered  him,  and  after  con- 
sidering the  matter  thoroughly,  he  decided  to  take 
it.  He  kept  up  his  studies,  reviewing  carefully 
all  that  he  had  been  over  at  college  and  doing  his 
level  best  to  teach  the  mountain  urchins  as  they 
had  never  been  taught  before.  By  close  economy 
he  saved  enough  money  to  defray  his  expenses  the 
next  two  years  at  college. 

This   year  out  of   college   was   very  helpful    to 
Zach.     The  careful   review  of  his   studies  and  his 


50  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLKGK 

efforts  to  teach  Katie  Latin  and  Algebra  were  of 
incalculable  benefit  to  him.  Many  an  evening, 
too,  he  and  Katie  spent  reading  and  discussing 
works  of  fiction  and  history. 

Though  the  year  was  helpful  to  Zach,  it  was 
not  without  its  trials  to  the  mountaineer  and  his 
black-eyed  beauty.  A  quaint  old  divine  once  said: 
"There's  a  lot  of  human  uatur  in  man."  There 
proved  to  be  much  "human  natur''  in  these  moun- 
tain coves.  Katie's  increasing  beauty  and  bright- 
ness excited  the  env}^  of  her  childhood  associates 
and  they  were  not  slow  in  letting  her  know  that 
she  was  "gitten  too  smart  fur  her  raisin."  More 
than  once  she  was  accused  of  getting  "book 
larnin''  and  of  being  "too  bigitty  fur  the  company 
of  decent  folks  whut  makes  they  livin  with  ther 
own  hans." 

The  sun  had   not  long   peeped  over  the  eastern 

horizon,  and  Mrs,  Kelly,  having  finished  her  morn. 

ing  work,  had  just  swept  around  the  front  door  of 

her  little  cabin  and  seated  herself  in  a  splint-bot- 
tom chair  by  the  side  of  the  door,  when  Mrs.  Flen- 
nlgan  rode  leisurely  by  on  her  shambling  *  'cork- 
screw"   pony. 


ilOW  ZACH  CAMK  'TO  COLLEGE  5f 

"Good  moruin'  Miss  Flennigan,  good  morniu' 
and  how's  all  at  yo'  house?"    inquired  Mrs.  Kelly 

in  a   peculiar    screaking  voice    that  found  its  way 

into  every  crack   and  crevice    of  the   neighboring 

hills. 

"All  well,  thank  God,  and  how's  all  wid  you- 
ans?" 

"Powerful  poorl}^,  powerful  poorly,  Miss  Flen- 
nigan: Mose  is  got  a  sore  toe,  Jake  sprained  his 
ankle  jdstiddy  and  Liza's  got  a  misery  in  her  side 
this  mornin, — but  name  a  gracious,  Miss  Flenni- 
gan, whar  you  be  gwineso  soon  this  fine  mornin?" 

"Why  I'm  gwine  to  the  quiltiu  at  Miss  Young 
blood's — aint  youansbe  got  no  invite?" 

"Invite?  Sakes  alive,  weans  aint  even  as  much 
as  hearn  tell  of  it.  And  I  be  bound  that's  the  work 
of  that  thar  Katie  Langford,  a  miserable,  little, 
bigitty  hussy.  She  didn't  want  my  gals  thar  to 
out-shine  her,  and  I  be  bound  'twar  her  doins  that 
kept  Miss  Youngblood  from  sendin'  us  the  invite." 

To  fail  to  get  an  "invite"  to  a  quilting  was  a 
fearful  blow  to  one's  pride,  and  a  discount  to  her 
social  standing  beyond  reparation  in  "these  parts," 


52  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE 

and    no  one    could  feel    a  thing  of   this  kind  more 
keenly  than  Mrs.  Kelly  and  her  "gals." 

Katie  was  late  reporting  at  the  quilting  that  day. 
The  conversation  between  Mrs.  Kelly  and  Mrs. 
Flennigan  was  properly  seasoned  and  dished  out 
by  the  latter  dame  to  those  who  sat  around  the 
quilting  frame,  due  care  being  taken,  of  course,  to 

prevent  Mrs.  Youngblood  from  hearing  it, 

"Miss  Kelly  is  about  right  in  her  notion  of  that 

cretur,"  said  Miss  Tarrant,  an  elderly  maiden  lady 
who  had  no  special  business  of  her  own,  but  did 
not  hesitate  to  attend  promptly  to  that  of  her  neigh_ 
bors.  "Why,  bless  3'our  life,  I  was  thar  tother 
day  to  see  her  mamm}^,  and  that  impident  little 
hussy  sot  thar  the  whole  time  with  a  pencil  een  one 
han  an'  a  book  een  t'other;  and  thar  she  read  and 
scratched,  and  scratched  and  read  till  nigh  on  to 
sun  down.  I  told  her  she'd  never  make  a  woman 
worth  any  man's  time,  ef  she  didn't  put  them 
things  outen  her  bans.  I  told  her  a  broom  handle 
would  suit  her  hans  a  heap  better' n  that  thar  pen- 
cil and  the  rattle  of  a  dishpan  would  do  her  a  sight 
more  good  than  all  she  could  git  outen  that  book. ' ' 
"And  what  did  she  say  then?"  queried  Miss  Ma- 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvI^KGE  53 

tilda  Jones  who  had  as  unselfishly  as  possible 
watched  Katie's  rapid  development  and  Zach's  in- 
creasing affection  for  her. 

"What  did  she  say?  Bless  your  soul,  chile,  she 
jess  flung  that  little  curl  back  often  her  forehead, 
and  turned  them  black  e}- es  o'  hern  on  me,  and  she 
pinted  her  forefinger  rdne  blank  at  me,  she  did, 
and  she  said  with  her  voice  a  tremblin: 

'Miss  Tarrant,  God  never  made  women  to  sweep 
and  wash  dishes  all  ther  days  and  ef  you  had  im- 
proved the  talents  God  gave  you,  you  might  have 
made  3-ourself  worth  some  man's  time  and  you 
wouldn't  have  been  a  long-necked  skinny  old  maid 
to-day.'" 

"Lor-sa-massy!"  exclaimed  a  chorus  of  voices. 
"And  did  she  say  that,   Miss  Tarrant?" 

''Course  she  did  and  more  too;  wh}'-  that  gal  aint 
feeard  of  man  nor  devil.  When  she  said  that,  I 
jist  perlitely  told  her  that  I  would  rither  be  a  old 
maid  with  along  neck  than  to  be  tied  to  sich  a 
thing  as  she  was  hankerin  arter;  for  old  Big  Zach 
was  nothin  but  a  tub  of  mush,  no  how." 

"Geminy,    you  did    give   her  a   good  un,'' said 


54  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.LKGE 

Mrs.  Wampole,  after  the  laughter   had  subsided. 
"Did  that  satisfy  the  little  smart}^  then?" 

''Ivordy,  no;  why  she  jist  up  and  said:  'Why, 
Miss  Tarrant,  Big  Zach,  as  you  call  him,  lights  his 
pipe  every  mornin'  with  things  better'n  you  is. 
Why  5^ou  looks  jist  like  somebody  had  tied  your 
neck  around  a  limb  and  left  you  there  all  summer 
to  dry  out;  and  now  ma'm,  thar's  the  door  and 
thar's  the  road,  you  can  take  'em  both.'* 

"And  what  did  3^ou  do?"  asked  more  than  one. 

"Me?  why,  I  jist  tuck  'em  both,  and  anybody 
else  would  a  done — " 

"Good  mornin,  Katie,  good  mornin'  honej^  you 
are  late  this  morning,  but  come  right  in,  your  com- 
any  is  always  welcome  in  this  house. ' ' 

With  this  warm  reception,  Katie  Langford  was 
ushered  by  Mrs.  Youngblood  into  the  presence  of 
the  ladies  sitting  around  the  quilting  frame, 

With  laughing  eyes  and  cheeks  aglow  with  the 
rich  warm  blood  that  flowed  through  her  veins, 
the  bright  young  girl  whose  entrance  so  unceremon- 
iously checked  the  conversation  around  the  quilt- 
ing frame,  promptly  rendered  her  excuse  for  being 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  55 

tardy,  and,  in  a  little  time,  was  comfortably  seated 
and  rapidly  plying*her  needle. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  mountaineer  was  not  a  genius,  but  a  patient, 
persistent  worker.  He  was  a  man,  with  faith  in 
himself  and  in  God.  During  the  next  two  years 
he  did  faithful, lefEective  college  work  and  ''walked 
in  his  integrity."  Then,  again,  he  left  college  for 
a  year  to  replenish  his  depleted  purse.  And  it 
was  during  this  "off  year"  that  he  had  his  sever- 
est trials. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
mountain  regions  of  North  Carolina,  and  however 
amusing  their  vernacular  may  sound  at  times  to 
the  cultured  ear,  of  one  thing  the  reader  may  be 
sure:  they  are  not  all  fools. 

They  sa.w  that  Zach,  their  own  neighbor,  a 
mountain  boy  born  and  reared  among  them,  was 
not  the  same  rough  5'oung  man  that  left  them  to 
go  to  college  a  few  j'ears  before.  Thej^  knew, — 
the  most  ignorant  of  them  could  see, — that  he  wks 
a  broader,  deeper,  stronger  man;  a  man  becoming 
daily  fuller  of  sympathy  and  love  and  better  fitted 


56  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

for  being  something  and  doing  something  in  life. 
This,  "all  hands"  admitted;  but  for  that  very- 
thing,  some  people  despised  him.  Verily,  human 
nature  is  a  strange  thing.  But  Zach  had  his 
friends,  staunch  friends,  men  and  women  who  be- 
lieve in  helping  the  young  man  who  helps  himself. 
Beaver  Dam  Springlwas  a  famous  meeting  place. 

Three  quarters  of  a  century  ago,  the  mountaineers 
met  there  to  hear  Fourth  of  July  orations,  to  take 
part  in  "gander  pullings,"  to  engage  in  target 
shooting,  to  fill  up  on  the  purest  of  "mountain- 
dew"  and  to  settle  old  disputes  by  stripping  to  the 
waist,  entering  a  ring  and  fighting  it  out  "fist  and 

skull." 

In  the  70's,  political  campaign  meetings   were 

held  at   this  famous   gathering   place,  and   picnic 

parties   assembled   there,  but  "gander   pullings" 

were  no  longer    indulged   in,  human    nature  itself 

at  last   revolting  against  the  cruelty  of  the  sport. 

When  Zach  announced  on  Tuesday  that  the 
school  should  have  the  next  day  as  holiday  on  ac- 
count of  the  campaign  meeting  at  "Beaver  Dam," 
there  was  general  rejoicing,  particularly  on  the 
part  of  the  larger  boys. 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE  57 

Wednesday  was  an  ideal  day,  and  many  hun* 
dreds  of  mountaineers  of  both  sexes  took  advan- 
tage of  it  to  go  to  Beaver  Dam  and  see  the  folks 
and  hear  the  news.  It  was  a  good-natured  crowd 
but  candidates  were  numerous  and  industrious,  and 
after  a  few  hours,  political  excitement  ran  high. 

There  were  no  issues  among  the  candidates  for 
the  House  of  Representatives,  so  each  candidate 
tried  to  win  votes  by  being  as  pleasant  as  he  could 
and  saying  the  things  the  least  objectionable. 

Zach,  "The  Perfesser,"  was  a  patient  listener 
to  everything  that  was  said, — the  wise  and  the  un- 
wise alike. 

Things  went  well  until  the  last  speaker,  Zeb 
Vance  Watts,  concluded  his  speech.  In  the  course 
of  his  remarks,  he   said: 

"Fellow  citizens,  as  grand  and  glorious  as  our 
country  i^  in  her  history  and  in  her  traditions,  she 
would  be  infinitely  grander  and  more  glorious  but 
for  the  contemptable  fanaticism  of  some  of  her 
citizens.  Our  liberties  have  been  taken  from  us  one 
by  one  till  after  awhile  we  will  be  shorn  of  all  our 
glory  and  strength,  and  become  a  pauper  band  with 


58  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COIvLEGE 

no  will  of  our   own  and   no  power  to   execute  it  if 

we  had  it.     Our  fathers  made  their  corn  into  liquor 

and  drank  and  sold  it  at  their,  pleasure.     Now,  you 

dare  not  do  it  for  fear  of  being  shot  down  like  dogs 

by    Northern    scoundrels  called    revenue  officers. 

I  believe  that  every  man  has  the  God-given  right, 

and  ought  to  have  the  legal  right,    to  make  every 

grain  of  his  corn  into  liquor,  if  he  sees  fit,  and  sell 
it  wherever  he  pleases." 

More  than  one  revenue  officer  had  "bit  the  dust' ' 

in  the  neighborhood  of  Beaver  Dam,  and  this  play 

upon  the  prejudices  of  the  auditors   brought  forth 

round  after  round  of  applause. 

"Go  it  Watts,  by  gosh,  I'll  vote  fur  you,"  cried 

a  soggy  moonshiner  leaning  against  a  tree  hard  by. 

Encouraged  by  this  enthusiastic  applause,  Watts 

the  young  barrister,  threw  his  head  and  shoulders 

back,  and,  raising  his  voice  till  it  penetrated  many 

of  the  mountain  fastnesses  continued,  "'No  fellow 

citizens,  this  infernal  revenue  law,  put  upon  us  by 

white-livered  Yankees,  is  a  curse  to  our  civilization. 

The  blood  of  some  of  your  own   fathers  and  sons, 

shot  down  in  cold  blood  by  these  revenue  officers, 

cries  out  to  you  for  vengeance." 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE  59 

Here  the  voice  of  the  speaker  was  drowned  by 
the  thunderous  applause,  and  he  concluded  it  was 
a  good  time  to  take  his  seat.  The  applause  at  last 
subsiding,  several  enthusiastic  admirers  cried  out: 
"We'll  send  you,  old  boy.     Hurrah  for  Watts!" 

Zeb  Vance  Watts  felt  that  he  had  covered  him- 
self with  glor}^,  and  he  took  his  seat  with  an  air 
that  said:  "I  have  captured  the  whole  crowd." 

Not  so.  Scarcely  had  the  last  echo  of  the  tu- 
multuous applause  died  away  down  the  valley, 
when  a  large,  handsome  man  stepped  upon  the 
platform  and  asked  permission  of  the  chairman  to 
make  a  few  remarks.  He  was  recognized  at  once 
as  "Zach,  the  Perfesser,"  and  more  than  one  said: 
"Hush,  thar's  Zach;  he's  gwine  to  speak." 

"That's  right,  Zach,  talk  it  out!"  exclaimed  a 
half  score  of  voices. 

The  mountaineer,  standing  erect  and  with  the 
muscles  of  his  face  twitching  slightly,  said  in  a 
strong,  clear  voice  that  rang  out  over  that  immense 
crowd: 

"My  friends,  I  am  no  stranger  to  you.  Born 
and  reared  among  you,  we  have  breathed  the  same 


6o  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE 

fresh  air,  imbibed  the  same  independent  spirit  and 
loved  the  same  mountain  scenery.  You  are  my 
people  and  I  belong  to  the  people  of  Beaver  Dam 
Cove;  for  that  reason  I  claim  the  right  to  speak 
very  plainly  to  you  today.'' 

"Hurrah  for  Zach!     Tell  it  to  us,  Zach;  tell  it 
to  us!" 

'  'I  should  not  have  opened  my  mouth,  but  for 
the  speech  ftiide  b}-  Zebulon  Vance  Watts,  Esq. 
Hearing  that,  I  could  not  hold  ni}^  peace  without 
doing  violence  to  my  conscience,  nor  could  I  have 
kept  silent  and  been  true  to  your  interests,  or  true 
to  m57self. 

"By  that  speech  the  gentleman  brings  reproach 

upon  the  name  of  one  of  North  Carolina's  most 
distinguished  citizens.     The  Hon.  Zebulon  Vance 

would  not  own  his  namesake  today,  if  he  could 
hear  such  utterances  fall  from  his  lips. 

"I  pit}^  the  man  who,  having  learned  a  few 
things  from  books,  concludes  that  all  other  people 
less  favored  than  himself  are  soft-headed  fools 
who  may  be  led  around  by  the  nose  by  such  a 
two-by-four  lawyer  as  the  Hon.  Zebulon  Vance 
Watts." 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^LEGE  6l 

•'Hurrah  for  our  Zach!"  ''Tell  it  to  him, 
Zach!" 

"The  gentleman  convicts  himself  of  inexcusable 
ignorance,  or  he  attempts  to  play  upon  your  pas- 
sions and  prejudices  as  if  you  were  a  set  of  ignor- 
amuses. Let  him  take  either  horn  of  the  dilem- 
ma. In  the  one  case,  he  shows  himself  a  fool;  in 
the  other  a  knave.'' 

Springing  to  his  feet,  Watts  advanced  a  few 
steps  toward  the  speaker  and  said  in  an  excited 
way, 

"Do  you  mean  to  question  my  veracity,  sir?" 

Turning  his  eyes  full  upon  the  barrister  and 
pointing  his  finger  directly  at  him,  Zach  said  in  a 
calm,  penetrating  voice: 

"I  mean  to  prove  to  this  audience,  sir,  that  5^ou 
are  either  a  fool  or  a   knave;    sit  down   and   take 

your  medicine  like  a  man." 

"Hurrah  for  Watts!"  "hurrah  for  Watts!" 
screamed  his  admirers.  "Knock  him  off  the 
stand,  W^atts;   pull  his  nose!" 

Watts  was  not  without  his  friends,  by  any 
means,  nor  was  he  a  boy  himself,   balancing  the 


^2  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^I^KGE 

scales  as  he  did  at  220.  But  Zach's  fighting  blood 
was  stirred,  and  never  was  the  sarcasm  of  Wen- 
dell Phillips  more  withering  than  the  defiant 
manner  of  this  son  of  the  mountains. 

Watts  took  his  seat,  incurring  thereby  the  dis- 
pleasure of  his  half  drunk  henchmen. 

''This  man  has  talked  to  you  very  glibly  of  how 
things  us(id  to  be,"  continued  the  mountaineer. 
"He  tells  you  that  there  was  a  time  when  our 
fathers  made  and  sold  whiskey  as  freely  as  they 
drank  in  this  mountain  air.  He  might  have  told 
you  there  was  a  time  when  our  fathers  burnt 
witches  at  the  stake — but  do  we  do  that  now? 
He  might  have  told  j^ou  there  was  a  time  in  the 
not  distant  past  when  our  fathers  just  over  there 
by  that  spring  engaged  in  the  fearful  sport  of 
gander  pulling — do  we  do  that  now?  He  might 
have  told  you  there  was  a  time  when  just  over  the 
hill  there  our  fathers  gambled  for  beef  and  mutton 
■by  shooting  at  a  target — do  we  do  it  now?  No 
indeed.  But  why  were  these  things  not  kept  up? 
The  times  change  and  we  change  with  them.  As 
the  years  go  by  men  become  wiser  and  better,  and 
we  who  live  in  the  blazing  light  of  the  latter  part 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGK  63 

of  the  igth  century  cannot  approve  of  many 
things  our  fathers  did.  We  honor  their  memo- 
ries, emulate  their  virtues,  but  we  do  not  propose 
to  repeat  their  mistakes. 

**The  manner  in  which  you  vote  will  test,  not 
only  3^our  own  patriotism,  but   your  intelligence. 
We  don't  boast  of  much  culture  in  Beaver  Dam 
Cove,  but  God  knows  that  our    men   are  just    as 
brave  and  just  as  patriotic  as  ever  donned  the  blue 
or    the   gray,    and  our  women  are  just  as  pure  as 
the  'icicles  that  hang    on   Dian's  temple.'     I  see 
among   you    men   who  followed  Lee  and  Jackson 
with  unfaltering  tread.     You  have  no  apology  for 
what  you  did,  but  when  the  sun  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy  was  set,   you  laid   down    your   arms 
and   swore    allegiance  to  the  flag  of  our  common 
countr}^     I  knew  but  little  of    my    brave    father 
who  sleeps  in  a  soldier's  grave  in  Virginia,  but  I 
believe  if  he  were  here  today  he   would  denounce 
the   sentiment  of  the  gentleman  who  seeks  your 
votes  by  an  attempt  to  arouse  your  prejudices  and 
keep  up  the  bitter  feelings  existing  between    the 
two  sections  of  our  great  country. ' ' 


■'.;. 


64  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

"Hurrah  for  Jim  Whetstone!  Hurrah  for  our 
Captain!" 

This  allusion  to  Captain  Jim  Whetstone  was 
more  than  the  old  soldiers  could  stand.  No  more 
recklessly  brave  man  than  Jim  Whetstone  ever 
followed  Wade  Hampton  to  battle.  This  outburst 
of  tumultuous  applause  was  a  voluntary  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  the  brave  Confederate,  and  the 
honest,  simple-minded  veterans  that  looked  into 
the  face  of  the  speaker  before  them  knew  that  he 
was  the  ''worthy  son  of  a  worthy  sire,''  and  that 
he  would  fight  for  truth  and  right  and  sobriet}^ 
with  just  as  dauntless  courage  as  was  ever  dis- 
played by  the  gallant  Captain  on  the  bloodiest 
battle-field. 

But  Zach's  courage  was  to  be  tested. 

CHAPTER  X. 
After  so  completely  routing  Zebulon  Vance 
Watts  at  the  campaign  meeting,  Zach  w^as  the 
hero  of  Beaver  Dam  Cove.  Old  men  who  had 
known  and  loved  his  father,  predicted  for  the 
young  "Perfesser"  a  great  future.  They  could 
see  the  fearlessness  of  the  father  in  the  son,   and 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  65 

could  conceive  of  no  higher  t3^pe  of  manhood. 
Old  ladies  were  enthusiastic  in  their  praises  of  the 
young  man,  and  the  girls  looked  askance  at  Katie 
Langford;  while  the  young  men  were  divided 
into  two  groups — the  one  admiring,  the  other 
despising  the  companion  of  their  boyhood  days 
who  had  grown  away  from  them — above  them — 
since  the  day  he  first  entered  college. 

In  the  old  days,  every  county  in  North  Carolina 
had  its  "bully;''  and  in  some  counties,  that  dig- 
nitary has  not  3'et  "passed.''  His  proud  distinc- 
tion is  to  be  able  to  throw  down  and  "lick''  every 
other  man  in  his  county.  In  the  early  70' s,  Mike 
Dixon  was  the  bull}^  Of  Rutherford  County. 

Joel  Samiter  was  a  country  dude.  He  was 
rather  slender,  had  the  countenance  of  a  fox,  wore 
a  red  cravat,  a  "biled  shirt,''  parted  his  hair  in 
the  middle,  and  tugged  constantly  at  a  wee  bit  of 
a  moustache  that  vainly  struggled  for  existence. 
He  kept  a  little  country  store,  too — this  man 
Samiter — and  sold  "manifac"  tobacco,  real  "man- 

ac,''  a  fev>'  Virginia  cheroots,  and  an  occasional 
hank  of  yarn  to  some  good  housewife  who  needed 


66  HOW  ZACH  came  to  COIvLEGE 

it  in  weaving  her  winter's  supply  of  cloth.  He 
was  not  accused  of  selling  whiske}^  but  it  ^vas 
noticed  that  the  moonshiners  of  the  Cove  were 
fond  of  gathering  at  hisplace  of  business. 

Samiter  was  a  great  ladies'  man,  called  himself 
"the  smasher,"  and  dangled  more  than  one 
mountain  lassie's  scalp  at  his  belt.  He  was  a 
political  heeler,  too;  was  a  bitter,  scheming  par- 
tisan, and  was  courted  and  flattered  by  local 
politicians. 

Being  an  ardent  admirer  of  Zebulon  Vance 
Watts,  Samiter  felt  chagrinned  by  the  drubbing 
given  that  gentleman  by  the  "Perfesser"  at  thg 
campaign  meeting,  and  swore  by  all  that  was 
good  and  bad  to  humiliate  the  teacher. 

But  Watts'  defeat  was  not  the  only  grudge 
Samiter  had  against  Zach:  Katie  Langford  had 
snubbed  "the  smasher"  the  Sunday  before,  and, 
now,  the  "Perfesser"  must  be  humiliated. 

"Now"  I've  got  it,  by  gosh!"  said  Joel  Samitej- 
to  himself  one  afternoon,  after  sitting  for  a  long 
time  in  a  brown  study.  "Now  I've  got  it,  and 
I'll  have  my  revenge." 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLKGK  67 

Without  further  solihoqu}',  Samiter  saddled  his 
horse  and  rode  five  miles  to  Bill  CarLlet's. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  behind  the  hills  when 
Cartlet,  with  his  axe  on  his  shoulder,  crossed  the 
road  just  in  front  of  his  cabin. 

''Hello,  Bill,  old  fellow,  how  you  wuz?  Whar 
you  bin  down  dar  wid  dat  axe  on  your  shoulder 
pretendin'  like  you  powerful  industrious?" 

Samiter  was  not  a  native  of  the  Cove,  or  of  the 
county,  and  had  enjoyed  considerably  better  edu- 
cational advantages  than  his  friends  and  patrons, 
but  he  was  a  good  judge  of  human  nature,  and 
could  drop  into  the  vernacular  of  Beaver  Dam 
with  the  greatest  possible  ease. 

''Hello,  yoself,  Joel;  I'm  doin'  tolerable  cepin 
I'm  monstus  tired,"  drolled  out  Bill  Cartlet,  at  the 
same  time  biting  off  a  fresh  chew  from  his  twist 
of  home-raised  tobacco. 

"Whut  you  bin  doin  wid  dat  axe,  Bill?" 
"Jist  a  choppin  doun  some  dead  trees  over  thai 
in  de  new  groun  I  cleared  lass  year." 

"Dat's  so;  I  heard  you  wus  a  gwine  ter  have  a 
log-rollin  soon;  is  dat  right?" 


68  HOW  ZACH  camp:  to  coli.kg:s 

"Yes,  dat's  right;  I  wus  jist  a  thinking  about 
pinten  nex  Wednesday  week  and  axen  the  boys 
to  come  in  and  gi'  me  a  lift.'' 

"Now,  Bill}',  old  boy,  dat's  jis  whut  I  come  to 
see  you  'bout,''  said  Joel  in  his  sweetest  tones, 
dismounting  the  while  from  his  frisky  pony.  "I 
heeard  you  wuz  gwine  to  have  a  roUin,  and  I  jis 
come  over  to  chat  you  bout  it,  bein's  I  knowed 
you  speckin  ter  invite  me,  you  an'  me  bein'  sich 
good  friends.  You  see,  Billy,  I  want  you  to  have 
the  log-rollin  on  Sadday  stiddier  Wednesday." 

"And  whut  fur?"  said  Cartlet. 

"Cause,  you  see — well,  Billy — well,  I'll  jist 
have  ter  let  you  in  ter  de  secret.  You  an  me  is 
good  friends  an  I  know  you'll  stand.  I've  got  a 
plan." 

"Well,  whut  is  it?" 

"Set  down  here  on  this  log  an  I'll  tell  ye.  You 
know,  you  an  me  an  some  the  yuther  boys  wus 
powerful  tuck  back  tother  day  when  Zach  chawed 
up  Zeb  Watts  jes  lak  he  did.  Dat  all-fired  speech 
wus  the  thing  whut  beat  W^atts  in  the  'lection. 
Sho  as  Betsy's  my  gal,  dat  done  the  work,  and  I 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^IvEGK  69 

want  ter  git  even  wid  Zach.      Nuther  thing:  that 

gal  er  hisern,  dat  stuck  up  Katie  Langford  gi'  me 

de  cole  shoulder  lass  Sunday,  and  I  want  ter  make 

her  feel  bad.     So  I  want  you  to  have  your  rollin 

on  Sadday  an  invite  the  teacher." 

"Well,  how  de  devil  is  dat    goin  ter  git  even 

wid  him,  or  mek  the  little  gal  feel  bad?" 

"Now  look  er  here,   Bill,   this   betwixt    me   an 

you,  an  ter  go  no  f  urder.     You  invite  Mike  Dixon 

and  I'm  goin  to  hire  Mike  to  pick  a  fuss    wid   de 

Perfesser   and    lick   him,  by  gosh!     How's  that?" 

"Dat'll  do  very  well,"  drolled  Cartlet,  squirting 

the  yellow  spittle  throngh  his  fingers.      "Dat'll  do 
very  well,  providin  Mike  kin  lick  him,'' 

"Lick  him!  My  gosh,  man,  isn't  Dixon  the 
bull}^  of  the  Cove?"  asked  Joel,  excitedly,  losing 
for  the  time  the  vernacular  of  the  neighborhood. 

"Yes,  but  he  aint  never  tackled  Zach  Whet- 
stone. Joel,  did  you  see  Zach's  eyes  when  he 
spoke  at  the  meetin'?  Now  I  don't  know  every- 
thing, but  I  knows  some  things.  That  man  will 
fight,  an'  he's  a  powerful  man.  They  tell  me  he 
jist  lak  his  daddy,  and  the  old  soldiers  say  the  old 
Captain   was   a   tiger   in  a  fight.     They  say  he 


i 


70  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLIvEGE 

never  let  up,  but  jist  shot  his  eyes  and  hilt  on  till 
the  other  fellow   hollowed,  'calf-rope.'" 

"Dat  makes  no  diffunce,"  said  Joel.      "You  ax 

Mike  Dixon,  an'  he'll  sho  make  Zach  tote  his  cot- 
ton." 

"O,  I'll  ax    him;  certainny,    I'll  ax  him,"  said 

Cartlet.      "I'll  ax   him,  beca'se  I  don't  object  to 

seein'  a  little  wool-puUin'  myself." 

"Alright,  Bill,  alright,  old  fellow.  And  you'll 
pint  Sadday  week  as  the  day." 

"Yes;  Sadday  week." 

''Good  boy!    good  night  Billy!"    and  Joel  flung 

himself  into  his  saddle,  and  giving  free  rein  to  the 

restless  Mustang,  galloped  over  the  hill,  dreaming 

of  his  own  revenge  and  Zach's  humiliation. 

CHAPTER    XI. 

Saturday  week  dawned  clear  and  bright.  About 
thirty  neighbors  gathered  early  to  help  Bill  Cart- 
let  roll  his  logs.  Zach,  the  "Perfesser"  was  among 
them,  for  though  within  one  year  of  graduation 
and  now  regarded  the  best  educated  man  in  the 
cove,  he  was  not  above  lending  a  helping  hand  to 
a  neighbor  as  he  had  done  from  his  5^outh  up. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLT.KGE  7 1 

At  tjcit  time,  in  that  region,  the  "corn-shuck- 
ing" an.!  the  "log-rolling"  were  to  the  men  what 
the  "quilting"'  was  to  the  women.  From  a  business 
point  of  view,  these  gatherings  were  beneficial  to 
individuals,    and  socially  were   verj^  helpful  to  all 

concerned. 

At  the    "log-rollings,"  many  a    test  of  strength 

was  made,  for  pulling  at  the  "hand-stick"  was  the 
favorite  method  of  measuring  one's  muscles.  To 
be  able  to  pull  one's  mate  to  his  knees  while  lift- 
ing a  heavj-  log  was  prima  facie  evidence  of  super- 
ior physical  strength.  In  those  da3\s  before  the 
railroads  had  penetrated  the  mountain  regions 
carr5dng  with  them  the  saw-mill,  lumber  was  "no 
object,"  to  express  it  in  the  language  of  the  moun- 
taineer; and  when  a  clearing  was  made,  the  only 
thing  that  could  be  done  with    the  timber   was  to 

pile  the  logs  into  great  heaps  and  burn  them. 
When  men  entered    the  field  to  pile    these  logs, 

they  were  paired  generally  according  to  size.     So 

at  Cartlet's  log-rolling,  by  common  consent,  Zach 

was  paired  with  Mike  Dixon,  the  "bully."  It  was 
a  pair  of  powerful  men.  Dixon  was  a  few  pounds 
heavier,  but  both  were  muscular  and  agile  as  cats* 


i 


72  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.KGK 

Many  a  heavy  log  yielded  to  the  touch  of  the 
two  giants,  and  in  a  few  hours,  the  well-matched 
pair  became  objects  of  special  interest  to  the  entire 
crowd.  At  one  time,  the  teacher  succeeded  in 
putting  one  knee  of  the  Irishman  on  the  ground. 
Mike  claimed  tliat  he  was  fouled,  but  in  the  judg- 
ment of  the  witnesses,  it  was  fairly  done  and  was 
so  declared.  There  was  nothing  for  Mike  to  do 
but  to  accept  their  judgment.  He  yielded,  but 
uttered  one  or  two  bitter  oaths  and  leaned  to  his 
hand-stick  again. 

The  contest  was  now  exciting.  Men  left  their 
own  log-heaps  to  come  and  watch  the  two  big  fel- 
lows. 

Joel  Samiter  was  greatlj^  excited  and  offered  to 
bet  his  horse  against  the  "mangiest  calf  in  the 
cove"  that  the  Irishman  would  pull  the  teacher 
down  before  night. 

"I'll  take  that  bet,"  said  Uncle  Joe  Morrow,  a 
very  old  man  who  came,  not  to  assist  in  the  work, 
but  just  to  watch  the  young  men  exhibit  their 
strength.  "I'll  take  that  bet,  young  man.  You'll 
never  see  it  done,'' 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI^KGR  73 

''Look  out  thar,  you  scoundrel,  and  keep  off  my 
toe!"  It  was  Mike  Dixon  who  spoke,  and  he  was 
looking  into  the  ej^es  of  his  mate,  the  teacher,  who 
stood  just  beyond  the  log  at  the  other  end  of  his 
hand-stick. 

'*I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Zach  calmly.  "I 
didn't  mean  to  step  on  your  toe,  of  course." 

**Youarea liar,"  said  the  Irishman,    "you 

done  it  on  purpose." 

"Mr.  Dixon,"  said  the  mountaineer  quietly,  "I 
am  sorry  you  said  that,  and  unless  you  apologize 
for  it  I  shall  make  you  sorry." 

"Apologize?  Apologize  to  you,  you  son  of  a — ?  * 

Zach  turned  a  little  pale  and  then  said  with  a 
slight  tremor  in  his  voice: 

"Now,  then,  sir,  it's  too  late,  you  can't  apolo- 
gize.    You've  got  to  fight  me." 

"Fair  fight,  gentlemen,  fair  fight!" cried  several, 
and  Billy  Cartlet  proceeded  to  make  a  ring  about 
fifteen  feet  in  diameter. 

A  fight  at  a  corn  shucking  or  a  log-rolling  was 
not  an  uncommon  thing;  so  all  the  other  men  gath- 
ered round  the  ring   while  the  two    giants  walked 


i 


74  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

into  the  center.  It  was  a  great  fight  and  destined 
to  bring  many  surprises  to  that  group  of  simple- 
hearted  mountaineers. 

Dixon  had  plenty  of  pluck;  he  really  liked  the 
business.  He  forced  the  fighting  for  a  while,  Zach 
guarding  easily  and  cautiously,  and  hitting  him 
on  the  nose  just  hard  enough  to  draw  a  little  blood 
and  just  often  enough  to  keep  him  fighting  furi- 
ously. 

Gradually  there  came  over  the  Irishman's  face  a 
look  of  amazement;  he  ceased  forcing  the  fight  and 
for  a  moment  stood  facing  his  opponent.  For  the 
first  time  he  had  met  his  match. 

"Now,  Dixon,  will  you  apologize?"  said  the 
teacher,  lowering  his  arms. 

"No: 3'OU,  I  won't!"  he   answered  quickly. 

Dixon  was  an  Irishman,  and  would  rather  die 
than  acknowledge  defeat. 

"Then  I  shall  hurt  you,"  said  Zach,  and  suiting 
his  actions  to    his  words,    he  struck  him  one,  two, 
three  terrific  blows,    and  put  the    Irishman  on  his 
back. 

The    mountaineer  folded   his   arms   across   his 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  75 

breast  and  waited  till  his  dazed  antagonist  stag- 
gered to  his  feet. 

''Will  3^on  apologize  now?"  he  asked  again. 

"No;  damn  you!"  was  the  stubborn  reply. 

"Then  look  out,"  said  Zach;  and  the  next  in- 
stant the  spectators  saw  Mike's  feet  in  the  air  and 
his  toes  quivering. 

"Foul  play!"  shrieked  Samiter,  and  leaped  into 
the  ring  with  a  long,  keen  bladed  knife  in  his 
hand. 

"Stop,  thar!"  It  was  Luther  Satterwhite  look- 
ing along  the  barrel  of  an  old  Colt's  revolver. 
"You  jist  hold  up,  Joel,  or  I'll  let  the  day  ligh- 
into  you." 

Luther  was  one  of  the  big  boys  in  Beaver  Dam 
school  and  loved  his  teacher.  Samiter  knew  the  re- 
putation of  the  lad  and  staggered  back  to  his  place 
around  the  ring. 

"He'd  apologize  now,  Zachie,  ef   he  could,  but 

he'll  never  do  it  in  this  world,  for  in  my  judgment, 

he's  passed  in  his  checks.  " 

It  was  Uncle  Joe  Morrow  who  spoke.  He  had 
seen  many  a  fight,  but  never  one  "done  so  nice  as 
that." 


i 


76  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI^EGK 

"Fling  a  leetle  water  iu  Mike's  face  thar,  boys, 

he'll  come  all   right  arter    awhile,"  continued  the 

old  man. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  hit  him  quite  so   hard,"  said 

the  mountaineer,  'I  hope  he'll  soon  be  better." 

Dixon  groaned  heavily.  The  teacher^s  counte- 
nance brightened,  and,  looking  down  into  the  face 
of  his  antagonist,  he  said:  "Gentlemen,  I  am  sorry 

I  hid  to  do  this, — the  poor  fellow  is  suffering." 
The   fight    broke    up   tlie    log-rolling.     Dixon 

pulled  through    and  went  home  a  wiser  man,  and 
Joel  Samiter,  instead  of  getting  revenge  was  him- 
self disgusted  and  humiliated  beyond  measure. 
Zach  disliked  such  notoriety  as  that  day's  work 

would  give  him,  but  consoled  himself  with  the 
thought  that  no  self-respecting  man  could  submit 
to  such  insulting  language.  Down  in  the  moun- 
taineer's heart,  he  was  glad  that  during  the  previ- 
ous 5^ear  he  had  spent  so  manj^  of  his  recreation 
hours  taking  boxing  lessons  from  a  bosom  friend 
and  classmate.  Dixon  was  as  powerful  as  Zach) 
and  as  game  as  C^sar,  but  Zach's  scientific  blows 
knocked  the  Irishman  out  and  opened  the  eyes  of 
all  who  saw  them. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI.EGE  77 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Sunday  morning  dawned  clear  and  gray,  and 
long  before  preaching  time  a  great  crowd  of  men, 
women  and  children  had  gathered  at  the  church 
to  discuss,  recuss,  and  cuss  the  all-absorbing  inci- 
dent of  the  day  before.  >j 

The  average  human  being,  whatever  his  stage 
of  civilization,  glories  in  a  fight,  and  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Horse  Foot  were  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
To  lick  Dixon,  "the  cock  o' the  walk,''  'the  count}'- 
bull}^"  in  a  fair  fight,  "fist  and  skull,"  was  an 
achievement  calculated  to  put  one's  name  on  every 
tongue. 

Zach  regretted  the  occurrence,  but  he  had  no 
apologies  to  make.  His  notoriety  was  particu- 
larly embarrassing  to  him,  when  he  walked  up  to 
the  church  and  saw  all  eyes  turned  toward 
himself.  And  Zach  knew,  too,  that  in  spite  of 
the  protestations  of  friendship  made  by  so  many 
of  his  neighbors  after  the  memorable  campaign 
meeting,  there  were  many  who  would  have  been 
glad  deep  down  in  their  hearts  to  see  Dixon  knock 
him   out.     He  knew,    too,    that   on  that   church 


«■ 


78  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLI.KGE: 

yard  there  were  two  factions,  one,  possibly  the 
smaller,  in  full  sympathy  with  all  his  efforts  to 
improve  himself  and  benefit  the  community;  the 
other,  the  younger  element,  envious  and  jealous, 
and  wishing  him  evil  and  only  evil  since  he  openly 
avowed  his  opposition  to  what  they  considered 
their  most  sacred  right — the  making  and  selling  of 
"mounting  dew." 

On  the  Eastern  slope  of  Bald  Mountain,  known 
as  "De  Ball"  by  the  denizens  of  its  fastnesses,  is 
a  notorious  cave.  For  many,  many  years,  this 
cave  was  the  home  of  wild  beasts,  as  nature  inten- 
ded, and  continued  to  be  till  wilder  man  drove 
them  out  and  took  possession  for  his  own  unlawful 
purposes.  For  more  than  fifty  years,  in  one  of 
ir»^=  its  recesses,   moonshiners    had  distilled  their  corn 

and  apples.  It  was  difficult  of  access,  rock-ribbed 
and  approachable  only  on  one  side.  More  than 
one  officer  of  the  law,  having  run  the  gauntlet 
and  raided  "The  still,"  "bit  the  dust"  before  he 
had  reached  the  plains  below.  Jake  Ilderton  in- 
herited the  cave  and  the  still  with  all  their  bloody 
traditions   and   from   Steve   Ilderton,  his  father, 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLI^KGE  79 

who  fell  at  the  hands  of  "de  revenue"  while  fight- 
ing for  his  own,  just  five  years  before.  And  it 
was  Jake's  own  bullet  that  pierced  the  heart  of 
the  successful  raider  that  moonlit  night  while  he 
passed  "de  clump  o'  laurel  jest  beyant  de  bridge 
over  Little  Beaverdam."  Jake  was  considered  a 
desperate  character,  four  men  having  fallen  at  the 
bidding  of  "long  Tom,"  his  rifle.  But  Jake  was 
kind  hearted.  He  was  passionately  fond  of  chil- 
dren, reverenced -what  he  called  "  'oman  kind," 
and  would  die  for  "truth  and  jestis"  anj^where 
and  any  when.  "I've  got  no  usen,"  he  often 
said,  "fur  a  dovvied  coward  er  a  sneak;  I  loves  the 
open  truth  an'  a  far  fight  uvertime.'' 

'Twas  Saturda}^  night.  The  weather  was  warm 
and  a  half  dozen  mountaineers  sat  around  on  the 
heads  of  barrels  and  kegs  as  far  as  they  could  get 
from  the  heat  of  the  still  and  yet  within  range  of 
flickering  rays  of  light  given  out  by  a  sputtering, 
odoriferous,  brass  lamp.  Among  the  loungers  who 
had  gathered  to  discuss  the  news  of  the  week  and 
to  sample  the  latest  output  of  apple-jack,  were 
Joe  Davis  and  Joel  Samiter. 


8o  HOW  ZACH  came:  to  COI.I.KGK 

Three  weeks  had  come  and  gone  since  the  great 
log-rolling  which  came  so  near  ending  in  a  tragedy 
in  which  Zach,  the  teacher,  had  pla)^ed  so  promi- 
nent a  part.  Samiter  was  sore  yet  over  the  defeat 
oi  Zeb  Vance  Watts,  and  sorer  still  over  the  lickin' 
Dixon,  the  bully,  got  at  the  log-rolling.  Usually 
talkative,  he  was  tonio:ht  quiet  and  meditative. 

Davis  was  a  small  man  with  little  wolfish  eyes, 
dull,  sandy  hair  that  hung  down  over  his  shoul. 
ders,  and  a  disgusting  yellow  beard,  every  end  of 
which  seemed  to  turn  back  upon  its  root  as  if  en- 
deavoring to  hide  itself  out  of  pure  shame  and 
giving  the  face  an  appearance  not  unlike  that  of  a 
yellow,  frizzled  chicken.  His  long,  bony  nose 
was  out  of  plumb;  it  seemed  to  hang  on  one  side 
of  his  face  as  if  knocked  out  of  joint  by  coming  in 
too  close  contact  with  some  man's  fist.  His  upper 
teeth  protruded  so  that  he  could  not  under  any  cir- 
cumstances close  his  lips.  There,  surrounded  by 
granite  walls,  in  the  dim,  flickering,  uncertain 
light  of  the  brass  lamp,  he  made  a  picture  long  to 
be  remembered.  To  make  up  for  the  many  things 
of  which   she   deprived  the   unfortunate   fellow. 


How  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.EGK  ^I 

nature   gave   him   an  extra-long  tongue.     Davis 
talked  too  much. 

A  little  farther  than  the  others  from  the  red- 
hot  door  of  the  furnace  was  one  man  lying  flat  on 
his  back  on  the  dirt  floor  of  the  cave.  Muscular 
and  brawny  was  he,  and  lay  with  hands  clasped 
under  his  head,  while  the  stem  of  a  cob  pipe 
hung  between  his  teeth,  and  clouds  of  smoke  came 
from  his  lips  in  lazy,  indifferent  puffs.  Jake 
Ilderton,  king  of  Horse  Foot  Cove,  laughed  "in 
his  sleeves"  at  the  picture  before  him,  and 
wondered,  "whut  een  de  name  o'  God  was  sich  a 
lookin'  tiling  ez  Joe  Davis  put  een  dis  wurl  fur 
nohow?" 

Each  man  "slept  on  his  arms,"  as  it  were,  for 
a  rumor  had  been  afloat  for  ten  days  that  the 
raiders  were  on  the  war  path  and  might  be  ex- 
pected any  night  to  make  a  swoop  on  Horse  Foot 
still.  According  to  the  ethics  of  the  cove,  no 
man  was  expected  to  visit  the  still  unless  he  was 
willing  to  defend  it  against  all  raiders  and  die  for 
it  if  need  be. 

Every  phase  of  the  report  was  discussed,  expe- 


82  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COTXKGE 

riences  exchanged,  and  incidents  of  man}^  previous 
raids  were  told  and  retold  until  long  after  mid- 
night. All  had  heard  that  raiders  were  astir, 
but  not  one  could  give  the  name  of  the  informer 
and  that  seemed  to  be  of  more  interest  to  the 
party  than  the  fact  that  a  raid  was  imminent.  In 
Horse  Foot  Cove,  the  unwritten  law  was,  ''The 
informer  must  die." 

"I  dassent  say  fur  sartin,"  said  Joe  Davis, 
kicking  the  side  of  a  barrel  on  which  he  sat,  "I 
dassent  say  fur  sartin,  but  I's  jest  bleeged  ter 
b'lieve  dat  de  teacher  is  de  man  what  gin  de  still 
away.  I  bleeged  ter  think  it.  Ye  see,  two  year 
ago  and  leetle  better,  when  De  Ball  wus  a-shakin' 
and  folks  was  skeerdt  outen  der  shoes,  a  great  big 
man  and  a  lot  o'  yuther  fellers  kim  up  here  fum 
sumus  down  een  de  fiat.  De  called  daselves  students 
and  pertended  to  be  zaminin  'De  Ball';  de  stuck 
sumpin  een  de  springs,  and  pecked  on  de  rocks 
and  medjuredde  hills,  an'  Zach  kim  'longwid  'em 
an'  showed  'em  uver  whar.  Folks  didn't  lak  it 
den  kase  Zack  was  wid  'em  peekin'  'round  de 
mounting.     Some  uv  'em  'lowed  den  Zach  wus  a- 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLIvKGK  83 

gwine  too  fur.     He   des  uachily    covorted    'round 
de  mounting  pintin  out  uvertliing." 

In  the  early  70' s,  Bald  Mountain  did  behave  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  frighten  the  mountaineers. 
Dishes  were  rattled  and  broken  and  strange  rumb- 
ling noises  were  heard.  Prof.  Warren  DuPre  of 
Wofford  College,  took  his  class  in  Geology  to  visit 
the  mountain,  and  spent  several  days  examining 
the  rocks  and  springs. 

"Some  'lowed  de  whole  bilin  uv 'em,"  continued 
Davis,  "wus  jes  a-lookin'  out  fur  de  smoke  o'  de 
still." 

"Den  agin,    Zach's   gittin    too    all-fired    smart. 
He   don't   talk   lak  weans   no   more.     He  wants 
uverbody   to  go   to   church    and  Sunday  School. 
Ye  know  he  tuk  up  a  Sunday  School  'bout  a  mont 
ago  an'   he  wants  uverbody  to  jine.     He  gits  up 
an'  talks,  he  do.     He  says  sat  stiddier  sot  an'  all 
sich  ez  that.     I   tell  ye  he  air  a  bad  aig.     Some 
says  hes'  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothin'.     He  pertends 
terbepow'ful   'ligious.     Meks  a  prar  ez  long  ez 
fum  here  ter  de  eend  uv  de  cave.     I  went  over  lass 
Sunday." 


84  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI,I.EGl^) 

''Did  he  do  you  enny  good,  Joe?"  interrupted 
one. 

"Me?  no;  how  de  devil  ye  spec  him  ter  do  me 
enny  good?" 

"Dat  so,  souse  me;  I  spec  hit'd  strain  de  Lord 
hisself  to  do  good  ter  sich  a  critter  ez  you  is. ' ' 
Then  a  hearty  laugh  at  Joe's  expense. 

'*Ge' mens,  you  oughter  bin  tbarter  hear  Miss 
Flennigin  lambast  Zach.  'Zachie,'  she  'lowed,  'I 
wus  glad  whenst  ye  tuk  up  the  Sunday  School, 
an'  hit  did  do  my  ole  heart  good  so  long  ez  ye 
teached  the  childurn  'bout  the  Lord  an'  sich;  but 
now  whenst  3^e  git  ter  tellin'  em  'bout  obeyin'  de 
law  and  bein'  good  and  keepin'  sober,  I  haint  no 
furder  use  fer  ye, — I'm  agin  ye.'" 

"Old  Zach  'lowed,  'Why,  Miss  Flennigin,  don't 
you  want  the  childurn  teached  to  be  good  and 
obey  the  law?'" 

"An'  what  did  she  say?" 

"Lord,  mun,  you  oughter  seed  her'ej^es.  She 
jes  rared  back  on  her  hunkers,  she  did,  and  she 
'lowed,  'No,  sir,  narry  time;  not  sich  laws  ez 
weans  hes.  Don't  you  know  ez  how  my  daddy 
wus  kilt  by  the  revenues,   and  does  you  spec  me 


HO\Y  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLKGK  85 

ter  teach   my   childurn  to  'bey   de   law  arter  dat? 

No,  sir,  an'  ef  I  wus  jes  a  man  I  would   mek  you 

stop  sich  teachin'  ez  this,  er  I'd  let  the  day-light 

thooye'." 

'^\n  whut  did  Zach  say?" 

"Gosh  man;  he  turned  jes  ez  red  ez  a  beet,  he 
did,  an'  he  'lowed:  'Miss  Flennigin,  ye  air  a 
'oman,  an'  kin  say  w^hut  3'ou  please;  I  can't  holp 
myself.  If  ye  wus  a  man,  3'ou  wouldn't.  I'm 
agin  stillin'  an'  I'm  agin  law-breakin,  I'm  gwine 
ter  teach  the  childurn  to  'bey  the  law  an'  let 
liquor  'lone'." 

"Boys,  sho  ez  ye  air  born,  Zach  air  the  man  we 

air  arter.  Jest  say  the  word,''  patting  the  long, 
blue  barrel  of  his  rifle,  "an'  I  shall  put  'im  ter 
sleep." 

"Waal,  do  it  Joe;  do  it  afore  another  Sat'day 
night." 

"Dat's  right,''  seconded  two  or  three. 

"Shet  yo'  durned  mouths,  ye  set  o'  white-liv- 
ered cow^ards.  Here  ye  be  a-plannin'  fur  ter  kill 
a  man  jes  bekase  he  air  got  the  grit  ter  stan'  up 
and  tell  ye  whut  he  b'lieves  air  right.  Shame  on 
ye,  ye  cowardly  curs." 


86  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE 

It  was  Jake  Ilderton  why  spoke,  and  he  was 
now  leaning  on  one  elbow  and  shaking  his  fist  at 
the  men  who  had  listened  so  patiently  to  Davis's 
harangue. 

"An  you,  Joe  Davis,"  he  continued,  "ye 
dinged,  little  measley,  skeeter,  Zach  kin  tek  ye 
atwixt  his  fingers  and  blow  ye  over  de  Ball,  be  he 
mind  ter.  Ye  aint  no  bigger'n  a  jay  bird,  but  ye 
kin  mek  ez  much  fuss  wi'  that  thar  bill  o'  yourn 
ez  ef  ye  was  a  woodpecker  shor  nuff.  Say  an- 
other word,  ye  misble,  little,  biled  owl,  an'  I'll 
chuck  ye  head  fo'most  into  this  here  furnis." 

Jake  Ilderton  was  king  in  Horse  Foot  Cove:  hi^ 
ipse  dixit  was  law.  Joe  Davis  had  no  more  to 
vSay. 

"Now  listen,  3^ou  fellers,"  continued  Ilderton — 
after  refilling  his  pipe — ' 'listen  ter  me  and  I'll  tell 
ye  sumpin: 

"I  hearn  this  report.  So  lass  Sat'day  I  got  to 
thinkin'  'bout  it  an'  I  jes  thunk  'bout  it  til  I  got 
desprit.  I  thunked  'bout  that  night  when  pap 
wus  kilt  and  I  jest  mounted  my  horse  and  rid  out 
'cross  the  kintry  thar  and  hopin'   an'    a-prayin'  I 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLKGE  87 

mout  meet  some  reveuue  sueakin  round.  I  wanted 
ter  kill  somebody.  I  kim  in  sight  o'  Zach's.  I 
jes  sa5'S,  'well  I'll  ride  over  and  see  Zach  an'  ef  lie 
don't  talk  right  I'll  put  a  eend  ter  him'.  Zach 
was  plautiu' turnip  seeds.   I  vSays,  'good  evenin'." 

**Zacli  'lowed,  'why  howdy,  Jake,  I'm  glad  ter 
see  you;  light. '" 

"I  says,  'no,  I  haint  time, — come  ter  the  fence, 
Zach.'     He  kim." 

"Now  says  I,  'I  have  hearn  that  the  raiders  air 
around  an'  that  ye  air  the  informer.  I  kim  over 
to  find  out  if  dat  is  true'.'' 

"I  jest  hilt  my  han'  on  my  pistol,  an'  hit  cocked 
and  Zach  seed  me,  but  he  nuver  flickered;  he  jes 
zackly  looked  me  square  een  the  eye.  Den  he 
'lowed,'' 

"Now,  look  a-here,  Jake,  air  you  crazy.  Don't 
you  know  I  don't  drink  liquor?  Air  I  uver  bin 
ter  your  still?  I  don't  know  whar  it  is.  How  kin 
I  inform  whar  it  is.  No,  Jake,  dat  ain't  my  busi- 
ness. I'm  agin  liquor  an'  agin  makin'  it,  but  my 
work  is  ter  teach  the  childurn  to  let  it  alone  and 
arter  awhile   there'll   be  none   o'  it   made.     Now, 


88  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvI^KGE 

Jake,  ef  you  wants  ter  shoot  me  fur  dat,  jes  drap 
in  your  little  pills  here  fast  ez  ^^ou  please,  '  an'  he 
jes  nachily  pulled  open  his  shirt  bosom  an'  hilt  it 
open  an'  looked  me  straight  in  the  eye." 

"I  knowed  the  man  wus  a-telling  the  truth,  an' 
I  jes  nachily  tuck  my  hau'  off  mj^  gun  an'  says, 
'scuse  me,  Zach,  I  mought  knowed  'twus  a  lie. 
So  menny  people  hev  laid  it  on  3'e,  I  'eluded  I'd 
jes  drap  een  an'  ax  ye'." 

"I  tell  ye,  boys,  a  man  whut  the  childurn  lays 
sich  store  by  can't  be  a  informer.  Bless  3^our  soul, 
my  little  Dorinda  jes  thinks  her  teacher  is  nachily 
de  bess  man  on  de  yearth,  an'  thar's  Luther  Sat- 
terwhite  says  Zach  is  a  born  gen'man.  Guess 
you  'members  Luther,  don't  you,  Joel?  De  bess 
grit  een  de  Cove,  ef  he  is  jis  a  boy.'' 

Jake  had  not  mentioned  this  interview  before, 
being  heartily  ashamed  of  even  suspecting  the 
teacher;  but  now  felt  constrained  to  talk  of  it  and 
to  use  the  harsh  language  he  did  when  he  heard 
his  companions  planning  to  kill  the  best  man  in 
the  neighborhood. 

Day  was  breaking  when    the  crowd  dispersed. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  89 

Davis  was  smarting  under  the  language  used  by 
JsVe  Ilderton.  Nudging  Samiter  at  the  mouth  of 
the  cave,  he  said,  holding  up  his  long  rifle:  "Jo^^ 
she  kin  talk  jes  ez  strong  ez  Jake, — lay  low." 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Monday  morning  early  found  Joe  Davis  crawl- 
ing over  logs  and  rocks  picking  his  way  through 
underbrush  toward  the  road  leading  from  Zach's 
home  to  the  school  house.  Taking  advantage  of 
the  rumor  current,  he  determined  to  "put  Zackto 
sleep,''  despite  the  cursing  he  got  from  Jake.  At 
eight  o'clock  Zach  passed  within  range  of  his  rifle. 
Joe  raised  his  gun  but  his  hand  trembled  and  he 
lowered  the  piece  without  touching  the  trigger. 
He  cursed  himself  for  a  coward,  and  the  next 
morning,  having  selected  another  position,  re- 
peated the  effort  with  the  same  result.  Now  thor- 
oughl}'  disgusted  with  himself,  he  determined  to 
make  one  more  attempt.  So  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  next  day,  he  squatted  behind  a  huge  chestnut 
tree  over  whose  roots  Zach  would  walk  on  his 
return  home  after  school. 

The  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  children  as  they 


90  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLI^EGK 

made  their  way  over  the  hills  aud  across  the  val- 
leys, informed  him  that  school  was  out.  Nervous 
and  excited,  he  clutched  his  rifle  and  looked 
intently  through  an  opening  in  the  laurel  through 
which  he  expected  to  shoot  the  teacher. 

The  murderous  intent  of  the  assassin  was  so 
great  that  he  neglected  the  opening  in  his  rear 
and  knew  not  that  any  one  was  near  him  until  the 
cracking  of  a  dry  stick  turned  his  eyes  like  a  flash 
behind  him.  There,  within  six  feet  of  him  and 
lookin  with  astonishment  upon  him,  was  Katie 
lyangford. 

Joe's    embarrassment  was  pitiable.     A  flash  of 

lightning  from    that    clear   skj^    would    not  have 

disturbed  him  so. 

"What  in  the    world  are  you    doing  here,  Mr. 

Davis?^''  said  the  astonished  girl. 

"0,  good  evenin^,  Miss  Katie;  how  does  youans 

do?'' 

'  'What  are  your  doing  here,  sir?-*'  she  demanded- 

"O,  I  jes  heeard  a  turkey  gobble,  and  wus  jes' 
a  watchin''  here  ter  see  ef  I  couldn'  git  a  crack  at 
nim. 

The  indignant  girl  said  no  more,  but  walked  by 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  9  I 

him  with  a  glance  that  said,  "I  know  your  little 
game  and  I''ve  spoiled  it."  And  she  had.  Katie 
kept  the  path  for  a  hundred  3^ards  and  stepped 
out  into  the  public  road  where  she  had  promised 
to  meet  Zach  and  go  across  the  ridge  to  visit  a 
mutual  friend.  Davis  sneaked  off  through  the 
laurel  toward  the  hovel  he  called  his  home,  and, 
gritting  his  teeth,  declared  with  an  oath  that 
Providence  didn't  intend  to  have  a  hair  of  the 
teacher  "toch.'^ 

Katie  was  trembling  with  excitement  when 
Zach  took  her  hand  in  his.  She  told  him  quickl}^ 
almost  breathlessly  of  her  discovery,  and  urged 
him  to  take  steps  at  once  to  have  the  would-be 
assassin  arrested  and  incarcerated  as  a  precaution- 
ary measure. 

Zach  laughed  at  the  girl-'s  agitation,  but 
assured  her  that  the  danger  was  now  past. 
' 'Davis, '-^  said  he,  *'is  a  contemptible  little  coward, 
mean  enough  to  shoot  me  from  ambush,  and  he  is 
no  doubt  hired  by  some  other  scoundrel  to  do 
that;  but  now  that  he  has  been  discovered  in  the 
yery     effort     to    do   the     dirty     deed,     he    dare 


92  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvLEGK 

not  go    farther.     Your   coming,    however,    Katie 

was   indeed   providential.     Joe  Davis   is  a  sneak, 

and,  I  believe  for  one  silver  dollar,  would  kill  his 

best  friend.     But,  though  very  low  in  the  scale  of 

humanity  he  is  no  fool,  and  I   shall  have  no  more 

trouble  from  him.''' 

The  trembling  girl,  grateful  for  her  providential 

coming  dropped  her  head  on  the    shoulder  of  her 

lover  and    sobbed  like    a  child.     Zach   kissed  her 

tears  away  and   lead  her  off  toward  the  home  of 

their  friend. 

That  evening  when  Zack  left  his  sweetheart  on 

the  steps  at    her  father's   door,   he    asked  her  to 

go  with  him    on   Saturday    afternoon  to  visit  the 

family  of  Jake  Ilderton. 

Said  he,    "I    believe    Mrs.    Ilderton    is  a  good 

woman:  her  children  are  so  neat  and  clean  and 
polite.  No  one  but  a  good  mother  could  send 
from  her  home  such  children  as  those.  As  a  teach- 
er I  want  to  know  all  I  can  about  the  homes  of 
my  pupils.''  Katie  was  delighted  to  accompany 
him,  but  would  not  let  him  leave  her  that   night 

without  a  promise  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  out  for  Joe 
Davis. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.LKGE  93 

Mrs.  Ilderton  was  not  expecting  company  Sat- 
urday afternoon,  but  everything  was  neat  and 
tidy.  The  very  chairs  had  been  scoured  that 
morning,  and  every  particle  of  the  inexpensive 
furniture,  touched  here  and  there  by  a  gentle 
woman^s  hands,  was  inviting. 

The  large  old-fashioned  fire  place  was  filled 
with  evergreens,  and  old  Steve  Ilderton's  clock 
stood  in  the  corner  and  lazily  ticked  off  the  fleeting 
moments.  A  picture  of  George  Washington  hung 
over  the  front  door,  and  one  of  Andrew  Jackson 
over  the  door  leading  to  the  kitchen.  The  milk 
''piggin"  and  the  churn,  faultlessly  clean,  stood 
inverted  on  a  shelf  just  outside  the  kitchen  door. 
The  children,  little  Jake  and  Dorinda,  were  clean 
and  neatly  attired,  and  vied  with  each  other  in 
welcoming  "de  teacher  and  Miss  Kate."  Jake 
Ilderton  "happened  in"  a  few  minutes  after  the 
arrival  of  the  guests  and  joined  heartily  with  his 
wife  and  little  ones  in  giving  them  welcome. 

During  the  afternoon,  Jake  and  Zack  walked 
out  to  look  at  Jake's  "turnip  patch."  "Dat  slipe 
o'  Ian'  over  thar,"  said  the  host,  "I'm  gwine    ter 


94  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI.I^KGK 

fix  fur  a  brag  piece  o'  wheat.     I  wants  ter    hev  a 

ten  rail  fence  put  'round  it,  an'  den  haul  out  on  it 

sixty   loads  o'   stable  manure.     Does  ye  reckin  I 

kin   git  ole  Jack  ter  do  dat  wurk  fur  me?"   he 

asked. 

*'No;  Uncle  Jack  is  suffering  with  rheumatism. 

He  can't  do  a  lick  o'  work  now.     My  school   will 

close  next  Friday.     After  that,  I  should  be    very 

glad  to  do  your  work  for  you,  Jake." 

"Why,  Zach,  is  ye  jokin'?     I  knowed  ye  didn't 

mind  splittin'  rails,  but  I  'lowed  ye  hed  sholy  got 

above  scatterin'  manure,"  said  Jake. 

"No,  indeed,  not  if  there  is  an  honest  dollar  in 

in.     I'm  not  afraid  to  do  any  kind  of  work  that's 

honorable.     I   need   all  the   money  I  can  get.     I 

must  go  back  to  college  again  before   long.     I'll 

do  that  work  for  you  and  do  it  well  and  as  cheap 

as  anybody. " 

"Waal,   sir,   I'm  jest   powerful   glad  to  git  ye, 

Zack;    I  kin  git  a  han'  fur  fifty  cents  a  day,  but 

I'll  jest  adzackly   gi'  ye  seventy-five  cents  a  day 

and  board  ye.     I'll  jest  do  that  very  thing — whut 

says  ye." 

"Just   my   dinner,"    said   Zach.      "I   shall   be 


HOW  Zx^.CH  CAMK  TO  COI.I.EGIC  95 

obliged  to  take  care  of  mother  at  night,  so  I'll  get 
breakfast  and  supper  at  home." 

"All  right,"  said  Jake.  '*Ef  that  suits  ye,  hit 
suits  me;  but  the  wittles  is  here  fur  ye,  Zach,  an' 
ye  air  more'n  welcome." 

"Then  look  for  me  soon  Monday  morning  week 
to  begin  work,"  said  Zack,  and  the  two  returned 
to  the  house. 

After  a  pleasant  afternoon,  the  visitors  turned 
their  faces  homeward.  Jake  excelled  himself  in 
his  efforts  to  show  them  that  he  appreciated  their 
visit. 

Dorinda  flung  a  kiss  at  Zack  as  he  turned  to 
close  the  gate,  and  then  said  to  her  mother: 
"Mamma,  I  do  wush  you  could  hear  Mr.  Zack 
prayin'  fur  weans  uver  mornin'  at  school." 

"Do  he  pray  fur  weans,  honey?" 
'Yes,  ma'am,  he  do." 

'I  knowed  he  wus  a  good  man,  but  I  didn't 
thunk  he  tuck  time  to  pray  fur  weans."  And 
with  tear-dimmed  eyes  the  mother  turned  her  face 
toward  the  kitchen. 

Mrs.    Ilderton   was   a  pale-faced   little   woman 


( c 


( (■ 


96  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I,KGE 

without  culture,  but  with  the  bounding,  throbbing 
heart  of  a  devoted  mother;  a  heart  that  knew  "its 
own  sorrow."  A  pleasant  smile  flitted  across  her 
face  at  intervals,  but  underneath  it  and  back  of  all 
her  efforts  to  appear  cheerful,  there  was  an  inde- 
finable something  that  told  of  unacknowledged 
heartaches,  of  a  sorrow  that  must  be  buried  ip 
one's  own  heart  and  burn  itself  out  in  a  single  life. 
Zach  was  accustomed  to  study  human  nature 
closely.  During  the  afternoon  he  had  diagnosed 
this  case  successfully. 

Mrs.  Ilderton  had,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  "run- 
off" from  her  parents  and  married  Jake  Ilderton, 
a  well-known,  much-dreaded  young  moonshiner. 
Jake  had  been  kind  to  her — as  kind  as  he  knew 
how  to  be.  Their  first  four  children  were  buried 
near  the  base  of  the  big  boulder  overlooking  the 
spring — the  two  little  ones  were  left  to  Jake  and 
his  Margaret. 

"Mrs.  Ilderton's  face  is  a  study,"  said  Zack  to 
Katie  as  they  walked  homeward.  '  'She  has  buried 
four  children,  I  know,  but  that  fact  will  not  ac- 
count  for   that   look   of  hers — she   has   a  living 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^I^KOK  9^ 

trouble.  She  is  a  Christian,  and  devoted  to  her 
children,  and  craves  a  better  life  for  them.  I  be- 
litive  it  is  Jake's  life  that's  drying  up  her  heart 
and  scorching  her  very  life.     God  pity  her." 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

School  closed  Friday,  August  31.  Monday 
morning  bright  and  early  Zach  stood  at  Jake 
Ilderton^s  gate.  He  carried  with  him  a  heavy 
maul  and  wedge  and  a  long,  keen-bladed  axe.  He 
was  ready  for  business. 

''Good  mornin',  Zachie,  good  mornin';  we  ain't 
done  eatin'  jdt,  kim  in  and  tek  a  bite,"  was  the 
welcome  he  received. 

"No,  thank  you,  Jake — I've  had  breakfast." 
"Waal,  come  in  an'  wet  yo'  goozle. " 
"No,  thank  you." 

"You  won't  kim  in  and  tek  a  drap  o'  apple-jack 
jes  fur  yo'  stumick  sake?" 

"No,  excuse  me,  Jake,  I  don't  need  it;  my 
stomach  digests  all  I'll  give  it.  Hard  work  is 
better  for  me  than  apple-jack." 

"Waal,  dad-burn  sich  a  critter.'' 


98  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COJUlvKGK 

The  two  men  walked  off  toward  the  woods 
where  the  rails  were  to  be  split. 

"Now,  Zach,"  said  Jake,  "here's  the  timber; 
light  een,  and  I'll  step  back  and  finish  breakfast 
and  then  go  to  m}^  work  at  the  still." 

"Yes,  I  wish  you  would  just  quit  that  work, 
Jake,  once  and  forever,  and  come  along  and  help 
me  split  these  rails." 

.A. 

**Tut,  man,  don't  ye  know  hits  a  heap  easier  ter 
mek  liquor  an'  sell  it  than  hit  is  ter  dig  a  livin' 
outen  these  rocks?'' 

"Easier,  now,  Jake,  but  you  are  damming  up 
the  waters;  you  are  piling  up  trouble  for  yourself 
and  for  your  children,"  said  Zack.      "Look  out.'' 

'*0,  youbedurned,  Zach,  and  stop  ye  preachin'; 
I  didn't  hire  ye  ter  preach — I  hired  ye  ter  split 
rails." 

Jake  Ilderton  was  a  shaggy,  uncouth   thing   to 

be  called  a  man,  but  he  loved  his    children  with    a 
devotion  that  was  beautiful,  and    Zach's    allusion 

to  the  curse  he  might  bring  upon  them  stung  him  to 

the  quick.     He  cared  nothing  for  himself,  but   he 

went  tp  his  still  that  morning  an  unhappier   man. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COtLEG^  §9 

The  timber  was  fiue  and  the  weather  was  per- 
fect.    So  Zach  set  for  himself  a  task    of   250   rails 

a   day.     He   was  now   within  one  year  of  his  di- 
ploma.    His  health  was  splendid,  his  mother   was 
alive,  and  with  a  few  more  dollars  he  would  have 
enough  money    to  take  his  diploma  and  *  'owe  no 
man  anything."     These  thoughts  passed  through 
his  mind,  quickened  his  pulse-beat  and  the  strong 
mail   drove    his    keen   blade  into  the  large  timber 
with  such  force  as  sent  it  almost  to  the  eye  of   the 
axe  and  brought  great  beads  of  sweat  to  his  manly 
forehead.     Zack    really    enjoyed    the  work.     He 
was  alone  but  in  good  company.     In  the  last  few 
years  he  had  learned   enough  of  the  mysteries  of 
nature   to    wonder    how  any  one  could  ever  feel 
lonesome  with  a  book  of  such   marvelous  beauty 
spread  wide  open  before  him.     Every  stone    had 
for  him  a  message  now;  while  every  bud  or   bird 
was  to  him  a  printed  page. 

The  midday  meal  with  Jake's  interesting  family 
was  immensely  enjoyed.  The  conversation  took 
rather  a  wide  range  for  such  a  compan}^  Jake 
was  glad  to  go  to  the  house  when  the  dinner  horn 


loo  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI^LKGlB 

blew,  while  the  pale-faced  mother,  Dorinda  and 
little  Jake,  so  fond  of  the  teacher,  found  the  din- 
ner hour  all  too  short. 

Things  went  well  till  Friday.  Dorinda  com- 
plained of  "feelin'  bad"  and  refused  to  eat.  Zach 
examined  the  child's  pulse  and  found  that  she  had 
high  temperature.  He  remarked  that  the  child 
had  considerable  fever  and  ought  to  have  a  doctor 
to  see  her  at  once. 

Jake  sent  off  for  Dr.  Raw.sheur. 

"He's  jest  a  'yearb  doctor,'  but  he's  all  we  hes 
in  these  parts,  an'  uverbody  sends  fur  'im,"  said 
the  father. 

Dr.  Rawsheur  came,  said  the  child  was  ''toler- 
able sick"  and  gave  her  a  strong  concoction  made 
of  some  roots  taken  from  his  mink-skin  bag. 

"The  leetle  gal  '11  be  better  in  a  day  er  two," 
he  said  as  he  went  down  the  steps,  "but  I'll  kem 
back  termorrow  jest  to  see  how  she's  gittin'  along." 
He  came,  and  came  again,  changing  his  "yearb 
tea"  every  time. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  fever  was  raging,  the 
child    was   very   red   and   restless  and  begged  for 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGK  Id 

Zack  to  rctn-iin  by  her  side.  Zach  took  the  father 
to  one  side  and  said:  "Jake, ,Dorinda  is  a  very 
sick  child.  I  don't  know,  but  I'm  afraid  she  has 
scarlet  fever." 

"My  God!"  ejaculated  the  distressed  father. 
He  remembered  the  terrible  scourge  just  beyond 
Bald  mountain  about  six  weeks  before. 

"Great  God,  Zach,  whut  shill  I  do?" 

"Don't  get  excited,  Jake,  we  must  have  a  doc- 
tor. Send  for  Dr.  Jones.  He  lives  fifteen  miles 
from  here,  but  he  has  treated  scarlet  fever  and 
you  must  have  him." 

Jake  lost  no  time  in  getting  Jim,  his  hired  man, 
off  after  Dr.  Jones.  "Don't  spar  ole  Fannie, 
Jim,"  he  said.  "Fetch  the  Doctor,  ef  j^ou  hev  to 
leave  the  ole  m.ar  dead  een  the  road." 

Jim  loved  Doriuda,  as  did  every  one  who  knew 
the  yellow-haired  child  of  eight  summers.  He 
rode  hard  and  fast  over  the  mountain,  Fan,  the 
sinewy,  little  chestnut-sorrel,  responding  without 
a  protest  to  every  touch  of  his  heav}^  heel.  But 
the  doctor  was  away  from  home,  and  Jim  rode 
fnr  into  the  night  before  he  found  him. 


I02  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLLEGE 

At  8  o'clock  the  next  morning  Dr.  Jones  dis- 
mounted at  the  gate  of  the  notorious  Horse  Foot 
moonshiner. 

Jake  and  Zach  and  the  faithful  mother  had  sat 
through  the  long  weary  hours  of  the  night  watch- 
ing by  the  side  of  the  little  sufferer.  Just  before 
day  there  was  slight  evidence  of  delirium.  Zach 
noticed  the  first  symptom — he  was  watching  for 
it;  but  he  said  nothing  of  it,  hoping  that  the  par- 
ents might  not  observe  it.  The  child  clasped  her 
hands  and  uttered  a  prayer  that  she  had  heard 
her  teacher  make  at  school,  and  then  clutched  at 
some  imaginary  object. 

Poor  Jake!  he  trembled  now;  and  said  in  a  half 
sobbing  way,  "Zachie,  fur  God's  sake,  ain't  she 
teched  een  her  mind?" 

Before  the  sympathetic  teacher  could  speak,  the 
child  turned  her  eyes  toward  the  door  and  said  in 
a  sweet,  childish,  pleading  voice,  "Come  in,  he 
won't  hurt  ye."  And  tlien  as  if  disappointed, 
she  turned  her  eyes  on  Jake,  and  said,  "Pappy, 
them's  angels,  but  they  won't  come  in — they  air 
^keerdt  o'  you." 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI^I^EGK  IO3 

Sweet,  patient  and  gentle  Margaret  Ilderton 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  large  tears  ran  down 
the  cheeks  of  the  faithful  teacher  and  poor  Jake 
sobbed  piteously. 

"We'll  not  give  her  up  yet,  Jake,"  said  Zach, 
applying  another  cold  cloth  to  her  parched  brow. 
"We'll  take  her  to  the  Great  Physician,"  pointing 
upward,  "and  ask  Him  to  help  Dr.  Jones  when  he 
comes." 

Dr.  Jones  stepped  into  the  room.  With  just  a 
nod  at  the  three  anxious  watchers,  he  walked  to 
the  side  of  the  bed,  and  looking  down  into  the 
face  of  the  child,  said  slowly  but  emphatically, 
"s-c-a-r-1-e-t  f-e-v-e-r. " 

The  intelligent  physician  who  had  treated  so 
many  cases  of  scarlet  fever,  knew  what  to  do  and 
went  to  work  without  loss  of  time. 

The  distressed  father  watched  his  every  move- 
ment. After  a  while  he  said,  "Doctor,  kin  3^e 
save  the  leetle  gal?" 

"God  Almighty  knows,  my  friend,"  was  the 
reply.  "I'll  do  the  best  I  can,  but  I  tell  you  now, 
she's  a  desperately  ill  child." 


I04  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COLIvEGK 

That   was   poor   consolation   to   poor,  ignorant 

Jake  Ilderton.  His  heart  sank  within  him;  he 
ran  out  into  the  yard  and  wept  bitter  tears.  "My 
God,"  he  said,  "ef  I  knowed  how  to  pray,  I'd 
pray;  but  I  nuver  prayed,  I  can't  pray."  Then 
looking  up,  he  said,  "J^sus,  spar  my  leetle  gal." 
Miserable,  O,  how  miserable  was  poor  Jake!  He 
couldn't  stay  out  of  the  house,  and  he  couldn't 
stay  in.  His  very  heart  strings  were  being  torn 
as  never  before. 

The  faithful  physician  watched  patiently  by  the 
side  of  the  little  child  until  3  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. Then  giving  explicit  directions  to  Zach 
and  the  mother,  he  remounted  his  tired  horse  and 
rode  back  across  the  mountains.  He  promised  to 
be  back  before  10  o'clock  tomorrow  if  he  could, 
but  charged  them  to  watch  closely,  for  he  believed 
the  crisis  would  be  reached  before  another  sun 
would  rise. 

At  8  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  child  was  quiet 
and  resting.  A  neighbor,  a  sensible  woman  had 
come  in  to  help  watch  through  the  night.  To  her 
and  the  mother,  Zach  repeated  the  directions  of 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.EGK  105 

the  physician  and  told  them  he  would  run  over  to 

see  how  his  mother  was    getting  on;  he   promised 

to  be  back  in  an  hour. 

A  hundred  yards  from  the  house  Zach  repeated 

the  words:  "And  a  little  child  shall  lead  them." 
He  looked  back  and  saw  poor,  wald  Jake  standing 
in  the  door,  looking  up  at  the  stars  and  wringing 
his  hands.  Then  turning  his  owm  eyes  tow^ard  the 
heavens  where  the  stars  were  twinkling,  the  big- 
hearted  teacher  said:  "Father,  spare  the  dear 
child  if  it  please  Thee,  but  whether  she  live  or 
die,  save  Jake  Ilderton,  save  Jake  Ilderton!'' 

Jake  sat  down  by  the  litttle  one's  bed,  and  wnth 
the  great  rough  hand  of  a  lovino^,  suffering  father, 
he  touched  as  gently  as  he  could  the  hand  of  the 
child  he  loved  better  than  his  own  life.  The  little 
sufferer  opened  her  e3''es  f or  a  second,  and  then,  in 
a  clear,  distinct  voice  uttered  two   words,  "blood, 

whiskey. ' ' 

Jake  Ilderton  knew^  nothing  for  several  minutes. 

When  he  regained  consciousness,  he  ran    out  into 
the  yard,  threw  himself  on  his  knees,    and   lifting 
his  eyes  toward  the  hilis,  cried  out  in  all   the   an- 
guish of  his  soul: 


I06  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COIvLKGK 


<(i 


'O,    God,  hev   it   kim  ter  this!  hev  it  kim  ter 

this?     Is    ye   tekiu'  the  child  fur  my  doiti's?     O, 

lyordy,  spar  1113^  chile  and  tek  me.  I  ain't  no 
'count,  tek  me.  I  bin  a  mighty  mean  man,  but 
I'm  might}'  sorry  fur  it.  Please,  Jesus,  jes  spar 
the  leetle  gal.  I  been  a  mean  man.  I  kilt  four 
men.  I  kilt  Josh  Lindsay,  but  I  wus  young  then 
an'  didn't  know  no  better.  I  kilt  Cy  Bell.  He 
cussed  me  an'  I  kilt  'im.  Lordy,  I'm  mighty 
sorry.  Then  I  kilt  Ben  Fowler.  He  ruirit  my 
sister,  Lord,  an'  hed  to  kill  'im,  I  jes  had  to  kill 
'im.  Then  I  kilt  the  revenue.  He  kilt  my 
daddy,  an'  I  jes  kilt  him.  I'm  mighty  sorry, 
Lord,  but  I  can't  fetch  'em  back  ter  life.  O,  Lordy, 
spar  the  leetle  gal  an'  I'll  nuver  kill  another  man 
ez  long  ez  I  live.  Spar  my  chile,  O.  Lord,  an'  I'll 
jine  the  church,  I'll  quit  cussin'.'' 

Poor,  helpless  Jake!  the  light  of  his  home  w^as 
about  to  be  ex^tinguished,  and  he  was  in  the  dark- 
ness of  despair.  Staggering  to  the  fence  he  cried 
out  once  again,  **0,  Jesus,  Marster,  spar  de  leetle 
gal!  jes  spar  de  leetle  gal  an'  I'll  sarve  ye  right. 
Spar  my  leetle  Dorinda,  Lord,  an'  I'll  nuver  mek 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COLLEGE  107 

another  drap  o'  apple-jack,  an'  111  lick  enny  man 
dat  tries  ter  mek  it  in  Horse  Foot  Cove.  O,  Jesus, 
spar  Dorinda  an'  I'll  buss  de  haid  outten  uver 
bar'l  o'  apple-jack  I've  got,  Lordy,  sp — " 

Jake  leaped  to  his  feet  and  ran  into  the  house. 
His  countenance  was  all  aglow.  "Dorinda  will 
get  well,"' he  cried,  "Dorinda  will  git  well;  sumpin' 
told  me  so!*'  He  was  about  to  take  Dorinda  in 
his  arms,  but  was  prevented  b}'  the  faithful  wife, 
who  pleaded  with  him  to  keep  quiet  and  not  wake 
the  child  now  resting.  Zach  returned  after  awhile 
and  found  Jake  in  the  3^ard  leaping  for  very  joy 
and  praising  God  for  his  promise. 

The  crisis  was  passed.  Dr.  Jones  arrived  at  9 
next  morning,  and  as  soon  as  he  glanced  at  the 
child,  said,  "Dorinda  is  better  this  morning.'' 

Jake  was  standing  at  the  Doctor's  back  when 
he  heard  the  words,  "Dorinda  is  better,"  he 
dropped  on  his  knees  and  cried  out:  "Thank  God! 
I  telled  ye  .so!  I  telled  ye  so!"  Then  turning, 
with  one  bound  cleared  the  steps  and  ran  rapidly 
toward  the  still. 

Jim,  his   assistant,  was  there  at  work.      ''Roll 


\ 


Io8  HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COI.I.EGK 

uver  bar'l  o'  apple-jack  out  here,  Jim,''  Jake 
shouted,  "roll  'em  out  an'  let  me  send  'em  to  hell 
whar  they  belong." 

Jim  protested  against  such  great  waste. 

"Shet  3^0'  mouth,"  cried  Jake.  "I  promised  the 
Lord,  and  ivery  drap  shall  go."' 

Seizing  an  axe  he  began  bursting  in  barrel 
heads,  and  ripe  old  apple-jack  commenced  rolling 
in  a  great  stream  down  the  mountain  side.  "Go, 
ye  be  bit  o'  hell-fire!  Go  back  to  the  yearth  fum 
wbenst  ye  kin!"  he  shouted.  "I'll  nuver  mek 
another  drap  o'  ye,  an'  I  kin  lick  enny  man  whut 
tries  ter  mek  ye  een  Horse  Foot." 

Jake  Ilderton  had  entered  into  a  solemn  covenant 
with  Margaret's  God.  He  joined  the  church,  told 
his  experience  reverentl}^  and  all  the  cove  saw  that 
the  notorious  moonshiner  was  another  man.  The 
whole  congregation  listened  in  profound  silence, 
man}'-  of  them  in  tears,  to  Jake's  experience. 
Wiping  his  moist  eyes  on  his  coat  sleeve,  he 
closed  with  these  words: 

"Friends,  I  hev  been  a  might}^  mean  man;  but 
I  mean  to  serve  God  the  balance  'o   my   days.     I 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.BGE  109 

iiaint  nolarnin',yeknow,  an'can't  talk  fur  'im  much 

an'  I  can't  sing,  but,  thank  God,  I  kin   fight  tur 

'im,   an'    hit  will    jest  gi'    me   pleggure  to  do  it. 

I  gin  ye   warnin'    now,   friends,     I    promised    the 

Lord    I    would    lick  enny  man  what  tries  to  mek 

liquor  in  Horse  Foot,  an'   I'll   do  it.     He    spar'd 

my  leetle  Dorinda   an'   furgive   my  sins  an'    now 

I'm  His'n  to  the  eend  uv  life." 

Strong  men  wept  that  day,  and  more  than  one 

woman  shouted  aloud  the  praise  of  Almightj^  God. 

Margaret    Ilderton's    pale    face    was    now  radi- 

ent.     A  flood  of  light  had  come  into  her  darkened 

soul,  and  for  her,  life  had  a  purer,  sweeter,  nobler 

meaning. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Having  mended  shoes  for  his  neighbors,  having 
dug  ditches,  split  rails,  scattered  manure — having 
done  anything  to  earn  an  honest  penny,  Zach  re- 
entered college  now  for  the  last  time,  set  his  face 
toward  the  coveted  goal  and  resolutely  fought  his 
way  through  difficulties  until  he  reached  the  end 
of  his  senior  year. 

The  much  dreaded  final  examination  is   passed, 


no  iiOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COmKGK 

and  the  mountaiueer  feels    that   he  has   fought    a 

good  fight.     And  he  has.     He    has  made  a   good 

record  as  a  student,  he  has   maintained  his  integ_ 

rity,  he  has  honestly  won  his  diploma,  and  he  can 

look  the  world  in  the  face  and  say  of  a  truth:    "I 

owe  no  man  anything. ' ' 

It   is   commencement    day    again.     Eight  long 

years   have   passed   since   the    mountaineer    first 

entered  that  auditorium.     Then,  he  sat  in  a  pew, 

an  obscure  backwoodsman;  today  he   sits   on   the 

rostrum,    the    most    observed,  because    he  is  the 

largest  and  handsomest  man  of  the  class — he   has 

won   his    place    by    persistent,     uncompromising 

blows. 

The   speakers    were    arranged  in    alphabetical 

order,  the  mountaineer's  name  beginning  w^ith  W., 

appearing  last  on  the  program,  and  the  subject  of 

his  address,  "Labor  Omnia  Vincet." 

The   other   speeches   delivered,    the    venerable 

president  of  the  college  briefly  related  the  incident 

of  a   young  mountaineer's  accidental    attendance 

upon    the    commencement    exercises   in  that   hall 

eight   years   before,  and   of   his  resolve  before  he 

left  the  auditorium  to  speak  on  that  platform  some 


HOW  ZACH  CAMK  TO  COIvLEGK  Hi 

day  himself.  Then  he  alhided  to  the  young  man's 
fight  with  poverty,  his  manly  independence,  his 
unflinching  courage,  his  high  sense  of  honor,  his 
devotion  to  duty,  and  said:  "Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, it  gives  me  real  pleasure  to  introduce  as  the 
next  speaker  that  same  mountaineer,  Mr.  Zacha- 
riah  Timoth}^  Whetstone,  of  North  Carolina." 

There  had  never  occurred  in  that  hall  at  any 
other  time  such  a  demonstration  of  popular  feel- 
ing. The  kind  but  truthful  words  just  spoken  by 
the  president,  the  mountaineers  great  popularity 
among  the  students  and  in  the  city,  his  magnifi- 
dent  physique  and  striking  personality — all    these 

set  the  audience  wild. 

The    distinguished    looking    gentleman    about 

whom  so  many  questions  had  been  asked  b}^ 
strangers  present,  advanced  to  the  front  of  the 
stage,  but  the  applause  w^as  so  great  and  continued 
so  long,  he  could  not  begin  his  address.  He  po- 
litely bowed  his  appreciation,  but  that  only  in- 
creased the  demonstration.  The  college  boys  in 
the  galleries  thundered  their  applause  as  only  boys 

can  do,  enthusiastic  ladies  wore  their  delecate  fans 
to  frazzles  on  the  back  of  seats  and  gray-bearded 


it2  HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COIvLEGE 

men  with  moistened  eyes  clapped  their  hands  in 
hearty  approval;  nor  did  this  cease  until  the  pres- 
ident raised  his  hand  in  appeal  to  the  audience. 
The  mountaineer  became  a  little  nervous,  his 
muscles  tv/iched  slightly,  but  his  accustomed 
smile  played  all  the  while  over  his  handsome  face. 
He  uttered  the  first  sentence  in  clear,  distinct 
tones  that  penetrated  the  remotest  corner  of  the 
spacious  auditorium,  and  again  the  applause  was 
renewed  and  continued  several  seconds. 

There  was  one  woman  near  the  rostrum  who 
did  not  join  in  the  applause.  While  others  around 
her  applauded,  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands 
and  wept;  wept  not  tears  of  grief  or  sorrow,  but 
sweet,  precious,  joyous  tears — the  man  thus  hon- 
ored was  her  baby  boy. 

The  exercises   concluded,  the  president   of   the 

college  and  many  distinguished   visitors   hastened 

to  congratulate  the  happy  mother  of    the   hero    of 

the  occasion.     The  proud  mother  was  too  full   to 

express  her  thanks,  but  looked  them  through  her 

smiles  and  tears,  and  in   her   heart,  thanked    God 

for  him,  who  to  her,  was  the  greatest  man  on 
earth. 


HOW  ZACH  CAME  TO  COI.I.KGE  1 1 3 

The  mountaineer,  as  soon  as  be  could  free  him- 
self from  the  hands  of  his  admiring  classmates  and 
fellow-students,  made  his  way  to  his  mother  and 
imprinting  upon  her  happy--  face  an  affectionate 
kiss,  handed  her  his  diploma,  saying:  "Here, 
mother,  take  this;  it  is  yours,  not  mine."  She 
clutched  the  parchment  and  pressed  it  to  her  heart. 
She  knew  she  could  never  read  it  for  it  was  writ- 
ten in  Latin,  but  she  also  knew  that  it  was  the 
testimonial  of  the  greatest  triumph  of  her  son. 
Then,  mother  and  son,  arm  in  arm,  walked  out  of 
the  hall,  the  embodiment  of  unalloyed,  immeas- 
urable happiness. 

Has  the  reader  become  sufficiently  interested  to 
wonder  what  became  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch? 
You  shall  know.  He  returned  to  his  mountain 
home,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  able, erected  on  his  own 
land  a  neat,  commodious  school  building  in  which, 
during  all  these  years,  he  has  conducted  a  suc- 
cessful, prosperous  high  school.  He  has  managed 
his  mother's  little  farm  well,  has  bought  lands  ad- 
joining it,  and  is  pastor  of  three  Baptist  churches 
nestled  amons:  the  hills  he  loves   so    well.     The 


114  HOW  ZACH  CAME)  TO  COLIvBGK 

Rev.   Zachariah  Timothy  Whetstone  is  the    best 

beloved    and  most  influential  citizen  in  all   that 

mountain   region,   and  his    hard    common-sense, 

successful  school  an(^fearless  preaching  have  done 

more  than  all  tne  laws  and  guns  of  Uncle  Sam  to 

stop  illicit  distilling  in  that  highly  favored  section 

of  North  Carolina. 

Old  Jack  was  faithful   to   the  end  of  his   daj'S 

and  now  sleeps  in  a  well-kept  grave  near  the   Big 

Gum  Spring.      Towser  and  Zeno  long  ago  ceased 

to  challenge  the  raccoon  and   the  squirrel.     Each 

had  a  decent  burial;    the  faithful  master  saying: 

"The  good  old  dogs  alwaj^s  did  the  best  they  could 

— what  living  thing  could  do  more?" 

Did  Zach  marry  Katie?     She  is  the  mistress  of 

his  home,  the  guiding  star  of  his  life,  and  both  are 

happy    in  the  lives  of    their  two  children,  little 

Katie,  the  duplicate  of  her  mother,    and    young 
Zach,  ''a  chip  off  the  old  block.'' 

The  aged  mother  still  lives  to  bless  the  home  of 
her  stalwart  son,  and  every  Sunday  hears  the 
gospel  preached  by  him  into  whose  baby  ears  she 
first  whispered  the  name  of  Jesus. 

THE   END. 


y 


HECKMAN 

BINDERY  INC. 


^ 


JAN  90 


N.  MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA  46962 


